iotia-1 


THE 


SWAMP    STEED; 


THE    DAYS    OF 


MARION   AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN. 


Romance  of 


THE    AMERICAN    REVOLUTION. 


NEW    YORK: 

DEWTTT    &    DAVENPORT,  PUBLISHERS, 
TRIBUNE    BUILDINGS. 


I 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  J  852,  by 

D'EWITT   &  DAVENPORT, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


Stereotyped  by  BELL  &  RUSSKLL,  13  Spruce  StrtvC 


THE  SWAMP   STEED; 


OR 


THE  DAYS  OF  MARION  AND  HIS  MERRY  MEN. 


CHAPTER    I. 

In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  of  a  fine,  sunny  day  in  the  early  part  of 
April,  in  the  year  of  grace  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  seventy-five,  a 
young  man  dressed  in  the  rough  garb  of  a  hunter,  with  a  rifle  thrown  care- 
lessly«over  his  right  shoulder,  might  have  been  seen  making  his  way,  with  a 
calm,  thoughtful  air,  through  a  thick  wood  which  rose  gradually  till  it  reach- 
ed the  top  of  a  high  hill  that  overlooked  the  surrounding  country,  and  whose 
brow  jutted  over  the  winding  waters  of  South  Carolina's  noblest  river — the 
Santee. 

The  pensive  air  of  the  young  hunter,  whose  age  could  not  have  been  more 
than  four  or  five  and  twenty,  precluded  the  idea  fiat  he  was  in  quest  of 
game,  for,  the  feathered  inhabitants  of  the  wood,  as  if  conscious  of  se- 
curity, piped  on  their  songs  of  gladness,  and  the  various  denizens  of  the  under- 
-brush  darted  at  intervals  across  his  path,  without  in  any  degree  disturbing  his 
thoughts  or  attracting  his  attention. 

The  appearance  of  the  young  man  was  at  once  striking  and  picturesque. 
His  figure  was  somewhat  above  the  ordinary  height,  and,  although  inclining 
rather  to  slenderness  than  otherwise,  straight  as  an  arrow,  and  of  a  most. per- 
fect and  commanding  symmetry.  He  was  habited  in  a  cap  of  dark  cloth,  a 
loose  deer  skin  frock  reaching  midway  between  the  thigh  and  knee,  buck- 
skin leggins  fringed  with  red  and  blue  stuff,  and  russet  colored  boots  whose 
high,  broad,  open  tops  hung  carelessly  around  his  knees.  From  a  belt,  slung 
around  his  waist,  depended  a  small  buff  pouch,  together  with  a  long,  double- 
edged  blade,  whose  top  was  surmounted  by  a  stout  elk-horn  handle.  His 
peakless  cap  gave  a  bold  and  saucy  air  to  his  otherwise  manly  and  impressive 
features.  His  brow  slightly  tinted  with  the  bronze  peculiar  to  the  denizens 
of  the  sunny  South,  was  high  and  massive,  and  possessed  an  air  of  calm  re- 
flectiveness not  common  to  men  of  his  years.  His  eyes  were  large  and  of  a 
bright,  clear  gray,  their  irises  glittering  like  belts  of  light  around  two  pupils 
iof  liquidiousblue;  his  nose  was  straight,  the  nostrils  small  but  boldly  denned, 
and  impressing  a  beholder  with  the  idea  of  deep  passions  in  repose  :  his  lips, 
moderately  small,  were  chiselled  like  a  bow ;  his  chin  was  slightly  promi- 
nent, and  garnished  with  a  small,  sharp-pointed  beard ;  his  long,  handsomely 
shaped  neck  was  slender,  but  firm  and  muscular,  and,  ever  exposed  to  the 
sun  and  air,  bronzed  like  his  cheeks  and  brow. 

One  could  not  look  at  his  countenance  without  becoming  impressed  with 
the  conviction  that  the  hunter  was  a  young  man  of  an  unusual  mental  cali- 
bre ;  intelligence,  coolness,  strength  and  self-reliance  shone  in  every  feature, 
and  stamped  him  as  one  not  likely  to  be  daunted  by  ordinary  perils,  nor 
turned  from  his  purpose  by  any  common  event.  But  the  most  striking  char- 
acteristic of  his  features  was  that  air  of  calm  reflectiveness  to  which  we  have 


2034559 


4  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

already  alluded,  and  which  gave  to  his  countenance  a  majesty,  nobleness 
and  strength,  that  stamped  him  of  a  superior  order  in  the  ranks  of  men 

The  young  man  pursued  his  way  thoughtfully  through  the  wood ;  and,  so 
apparently  earnest  were  his  meditations,  without  once  lifting  his  eyes  from 
the  ground,  guiding  his  steps  through  the  devious  trees  and  unbroken  brush- 
wood with  that  calm,  unerring  accuracy  which  appears  so  much  like  instinct, 
and  yet  is  the  strongest  and  most  indubitable  evidence  of  the  keen  and  e 
perienced  woodsman. 

On  reaching  the  top  of  the  hill,  the  hunter  turned  to  the  left  and  continu- 
ed his  way,  by  a  narrow  and  somewhat  trodden  path,  till  he  came  to  a  large 
open  clearing,  some  nine  or  ten  acres  in  extent,  in  one  corner  of  which  rose 
a  cabin  built  of  green,  unhewn  logs,  and  thrown  together  in  that  primitive 
manner  which  was  the  distinguishing  feature  of  the  early  settlements  of  our 
country  when  the  necessity  of  some  kind  of  shelter  took  precedence  of  its 
appearance. 

The  clearing  was  cut  up  into  small  patches  for  the  raising  of  corn,  potatoes 
and  other  vegetables,  which  now  began  to  present  a  thrifty  and  handsome 
appearance,  and  to  promise  largely  to  the  husbandman  for  his  trust  in  the 
providence  of  mother  earth. 

The  hunter  paused  a  few  momenta  on  reaching  the  edge  of  the  clearing, 
flung  a  calm  yet  rapid  glance  over  the  promising  field,  during  which  hia  quick 
eye  took  in  a  thorough  survey  of  the  condition  of  the  various  patches,  and 
then,  striking  into  a  side  path  which  skirted  the  clearing,  resumed  his  slow, 
measured  step  till  he  came  to  a  beaten  track  leading  to  the  cabin. 

As  he  approached,  there  emerged  from  the  log  house,  as  if  to  meet  him,  a 
tall,  lusty,  manly  personage,  whose  figure  was  encased  in  the  wild  and  singu- 
lar costume  of  the  backwoodsmen  of  that  era.  His  gigantic  frame  reminded 
one  of  the  stalwart  giants  of  the  early  ages,  and  seemed  as  if  made  by  na- 
ture to  penetrate  the  mysterious  depths  of  the  wilderness,  rid  it  of  all  the 
obstacles  and  dangers  which  stand  in  the  way  of  the  settler,  and  thus  pio- 
neer the  advance  guard  of  civilization  to  comfort,  security  and  strength.  He 
wore  a  long,  loose,  green  hunting  shirt,  which  was  fastened  at  the  waist  by  a 
deep,  stout  black  girdle,  in  which  hung  a  long,  sharp  pointed  knife,  whose 
highly  tempered  blade  glittered  in  the  sunlight  like  a  flashing  mirror ;  at  his 
side,  suspended  by  a  belt  slung  over  his  right  shoulder,  depended  a  large 
powder  horn,  and  directly  underneath  it,  an  ample  pouch  of  deer  skin,  tolera- 
bly well  lined  with  bullets,  wads  and  scraps  of  linen  to  serve  as  bandages  in 
case  of  need ;  his  limbs  were  attired  in  doe-skin  leggins  fringed  at  the  sides 
and  extremities  with  scarlet  yarn ;  his  large,  wide  feet  were  covered  with 
buff  moccasins,  whose  tops  presented  a  showy  array  of  white,  green,  blue, 
and  red  bead  work,  of  which  their  owner,  judging  by  their  clean,  aud  almost 
spotless  condition,  and  the  care  he  evinced  in  preserving  them  from  discolor- 
ment,  was  not  a  little  proud.  He  wore  a  coarse,  gray  felt  hat,  of  a  sugar  loaf 
shape  rising  above  a  deep  and  slouching  rim.  Beneath  his  broad,  high  and  sun- 
tanned brow  gleamed  two  large  dare-devil  eyes  of  a  deep  brown  hue,  which 
sparkled  with  a  mingled  expression  of  cunning,  intrepidity  and  good  nature. 
A  large,  Roman  nose,  a  mouth  of  moderate  dimensions,  small,  thick  lips,  and 
a  protruding  chin,  finished  a  face  whose  boldly  marked  outlines  were  em- 
blematic of  the  shrewd,  fearless  and  happy  tempered  disposition  of  their 
ovrner. 

"Bless  my  old  aunt  Sally!"  exclaimed  the  woodsman,  as  the  young  hunter 
advanced  and  stretched  out  his  hand,  "  if  it  aint  Neil  Somers !  Why  Neil !" 
he  continued,  wringing  in  his  broad  palm  the  proffered  hand  of  the  young 
hunter,  "  what  on  airth  brings  yew  to  the  log  house  of  Nat  Akarman ;  is  it 
red  skin?  The  varmint  hev  been  seed,  they  say,  on  the  borders,  .on  the  look 
out  for  scalps.  Hev  yew  heerd  on  'em  ?" 

The  young  man  slowly  and  smilingly  shook  his  head. 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN. 


"Can  you  spare  me  half  an  hour,  Nat?"  said  he,  bending  his  thoughtful 
eyes  meaningly  on  the  woodsman. 

"  Sartain  !'  answered  the  latter  good  humoredly,  "  half  a  year  if  yew  like  ! 
Wait  a  moment  till  I  get  old  Sal  ;  I  make  it  a  pint  never  to  take  a  step  with- 
out her.  She's  the  only  rale  ginooine  critter  to  be  found  in  these  parts.  Old 
Sal  will  drop  a  red  skin  at  three  hundred  yar  tb  quicker  'n  chain  lightnin  ! 
Jest  hold  on  a  minit,  till  I  git  her,  and  then  we'll  go  down  to  the  old  tree  on 
the  ledge." 

So  saying,  the  woodsman  turned  and  entered  the  log  house,  from  which  he 


, 

presently  emerged,  wifh  a  long  rifle  thrown  over  his  shoulder,  the  stock  of 
which  he  grasped  in  his  la 
that  was  all  but  ludicrous. 


,  , 

which  he  grasped  in  his  large  brawny  hand  vrith  an  expression  of  tenderness 


"Here  she  is,  Neil!"  he  cried  in  a  tone  of  enthusiasm,  as  he  took  the 
weapon  from  his  shoulder  and  held  it  up  to  the  gaze  of  his  visitor.  "  Isn't 
she  a  beauty  ?" 

"  I  am  well  acquainted  with  her  merits,  Nat,"  answered  the  young  hunter. 
"  Have  I  not  heard  her  bark  among  the  hills  of  the  Cherokees  ;  did  I  not  see 
her  flash  at  the  battle  of  Etchoee,  where  her  gray  teeth  made  many  a  red 
skin  bite  the  dust  without  giving  him  time  to  sing  his  death  song?" 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  cried  the  woodsman,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  pride,  "she 
did  make  the  red  devils  play  at  leap  frog  a  leetle  on  that  day,  didn't  she  ? 
But,  come  —  let's  tramp  over  to  the  old  tree  on  the  ledge  !" 

So  saying,  he  turned  off  to  the  left,  and  quitting  the  clearing,  struck  into  a 
small  wood,  and  passed  on  in  silence  some  two  hundred  yards,  when  they 
oame  to  a  large  open,  sterile  spot,  in  the  shape  of  a  crescent,  on  the  edge  of 
the  mountain,  from  which  they  could  look  forth  on  the  surrounding  country, 
with  its  small  sparse  villages,  and  scattered  plantations,  and  beneath  which 
ran  the  crystal  waters  of  the  lovely  and  majestic  Santee.  In  the  centre  of 
this  small  sterile  patch,  its  long  straight  limbs  leaning  over  the  rocky  ledge. 
rose  a  huge  cypress,  whose  leafy  branches,  stretching  wide  around,  shielded 
them  from  the  sun,  and  invited  them  to  partake  of  the  quiet  and  coolness  of 
its  shade. 

"  Here  let  us  rest  —  here  let  us  converse,"  observed  the  young  hunter,  seat- 
ing himself  at  the  base  of  the  tree,  and  laying  his  rifle  carefully  across  his 


"  Yes,"  said  the  woodsman,  imitating  his  companion.  "  This  old  tree  is  a 
nice  place  for  a  talk.  There  aint  another  spot  like  it  in  the  province.  I 
allers  cum  here  when  my  'fairs  want  thinkin'  on,  and  when  I'm  meditatin'  on 
a  tramp  after  red  skins.  Here  I  fix  my  traps,  regillate  the  edges  of  my  knife, 
grease  up  and  fix  the  jints  of  old  Sal  there,"  nodding  at  his  rifle,  "  when  she 
wants  doctorin',  and  see  that  every  thing  is  chuck  up  afore  I  start  for  the 
trail.  It  is  a  nice  old  tree !  But,  Neil,  my  boy,  where  on  airth  hev  yew 
kep'  yourself?  I've  been  down  to  your  plantation  in  Kingstree,  more'n  a 
dozen  times  within  the  last  three  months,  and  the  niggers  told  me  that  yew 
were  not  to  hum ;  they  didn't  seem  to  know  where  yew'd  gone,  but  they 
'peared  to  be  pretty  sartain  you  were  not  around." 

"They  were  not  uncivil,  Nat?"  demanded  the  young  planter,  raising  his 
.thoughtful,  eyes  and  fixing  them  somewhat  strongly  on  the  woodsman. 

"Oh,  Jerusha!  no,"  answered  Nat  Akarman,  with  a  good  humored  smile, 
"  nuthin  of  the  kind.  Your  niggers  are  the  civilest  woolly  heads  in  the  hull 
province.  They  were  as  perlite  and  good  natured  as  an  old  maid  when  she 
receives  a  proposal !  But  where  on  airth  hev  you  been,  and  when  did  yew 
git  hum  ?" 

"I've  been  down  to  Charleston,"  answered  the  planter,  "and  I  got  home 
yesterday." 

"  Down  to  Charleston — makin'  purchases,  p'raps  ?"  said  the  woodsman. 

The  planter  smiled,  and  answered : 


6  THE    SWAMP   STEED  J    OR   THE    DA.Y8 

"  Yes,  that  am»ng  other  things." 

"  Dew  tell!  and  how  are  all  the  folks  comin'  on  down  there  I 

"From  bad  to  worse!"  answered  the  planter,  with  an  air  of  melancholy. 
«  The  breach  between  the  people  and  and  the  crown  widens  more  and  more 
every  day.  It  is  nothing  but  taxes—  taxes—  taxes,  and  the  people  murmur. 

"  The  old  story  !"  observed  the  woodsman  impatiently. 

"But  the  people  are  in  earnest  now  !"  said  the  planter  calmly.  And,  be 
tween  ourselves,  they  are  concerting  how  to  throw  off  the  yoke  that  now 
oppresses  them;  and  depend  upon  it,  my  friend,  they  will  bring  matters 
around  to  please  themselves.  They  feel  that  they  hav%  too  long  submitted 
to  the  unjust  encroachments  of  the  crown  !" 

"  And  do  you  believe,  Neil,  there  is  grit  enough  in  'em  to  shake  their  fists 
under  the  nose  of  old  King  George  ?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  planter,  unhesitatingly  ;  "I  believe  they  are  in  earn- 
est now.  Listen,  while  I  prove  it.  But  first  tell  me  have  you  been  down 
among  the  settlements  of  late  ?" 

"No,"  replied  the  woodsman  ;  "  I  make  it  a  pint  not  to  'sociate  with  people 
any  more'n  I  kin  help.  I  aiiit  to  hum  much  to  do  it,  ef  I  had  the  inclination. 
I've  got  some  small  bills  remainin'  on  hand  to  settle  with  them  blasted  yaller 
bellies  ;  they  haven't  paid  up  the  scalps  they  owe  me  :  and  old  Sal  here  won't 
rest  quiet  till  she's  given  'em  a  receipt  in  full." 

"  I  understand  you,"  said  the  young  planter.     "  You've  told  me  the  story. 
'Tis  twenty  years  since  the  red  skins  surprised  your  home  at  midnight,  while 
in  the  arms  of  sleep  —  wantonly  set  "it  on  fire,  and 


t  your  father,  mother,  brother,  sister  and  wife,  as  they  tried  to  escape 
from  the  flames!" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  woodsman,  in  a  voice  slightly  broken  with  emotion, 
while  from  his  face  every  particle  of  blood  slowly  receded,  leaving  his  swar- 
thy features  livid  as  those  of  a  corse,  "  'tis  twenty  years  since  the  varmint 
fired  the  old  house  which  stood  where  my  own  log  hut  stands  now  ;  'tis 
twenty  years  since  I  swore  to  pay  them  back  with  interest  for,that  night  of 
blood  ;  and  the  scalps  in  my  log  cabin  will  bear  me  witness  that  I  hev  kept 
my  oath!" 

"  And  you  have  never  wearied  of  your  work  of  vengeance?" 

"  Never  !"  answered  the  woodsman  with  a  swarthy  smile.  "  It  has  be- 
come a  second  natur'  with  me.  I  could  not  live  ef  I  had  to  give  it  up.  A 
red  skin  cannot  come  in  sight  of  me  or  old  Sal  without  smellin'  powder  and 
losin'  his  scalp  ;  and  when  they  aint  in  sight,  I  make  it  a  pint  to  go  and  hunt 
^em  up.  I  had  a  glorious  time  of  it  when  they  used  to  come  down  upon  the 
frontier,  and  the  settlers,  under  Prank  Marion,  went  out  to  drive  'em  off  and 
and  make  'em  taste  lead  ;  then  old  Sal  and  I  fairly  rioted  in  scalps,  from 
which  carcumstance  every  body  called  me  '  Nat,  the  Scalp  Hunter.'  When 
the  varmint  ceased  to  provoke  the  settlers  to  start  out  and  punish  'em,  and 
there  was  no  more  legitimate  work  for  old  Sal,  I  found  it  necessary  for  her 
peace  and  comfort,  to  carry  on  the  war  against  'em  alone,  and  I've  done  it  1 
Sal  turns  up  her  nose  at  painters,  wolves,  and  such  common  varmint,  and 
wunt  tetch  nuthin'  but  the  genooine  meat  —  red  skin  !  This  gives  her  and 
me  plenty  to  do,  for  the  Oherokees  and  Catawbas  kin  be  found  ef  yew  look 
'em  up.  I  know  then-  trail,  and  it  keeps  me  busy  to  attend  to  'em.  This  is 
the  reason,  Neil,  why  I  don't  go  down  much  among  the  settlements,  and 
"why  I  know  so  little  of  what  is  goin'  on  among  the  people.  But  yew  say 
the  boys  down  there  in  Charleston,  have  got  the  rale  stuff  in  'era,  and  that 
they  wun't  put  up  with  the  yoke  any  longer  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  planter. 

"  Well!"  observed  the  woodsman,  "all  that  sounds  to  me  like  an  old  story. 
Ever  since  I  came  to  old  Sou'  Carliny,  I've  heerd  nuthin'  but  grumblin'  agin 
.the  King  and  his  oudacious  taxes  ;  the  people  dekleered  they  wouldn't  staud 


OF    MARIO\    AND    HIS   MERRY    MEN.  7 

it  then — that  was  a  good  many  years  ago,  when  this  tax  business  wasn't 
nuthin'  to  what  it  has  been  since,  let  alone  to  what  it  is  now — and  yet  they 
stood  it  then,  have  stood  it  ever  since,  and  air  just  as  likely  to  stand  it  now. 
I  don't  like  grumblers,  who  growl  at  everything  and  don't  do  nuthin'." 

"  But  they  are  in  earnest  now,  Nat !"  observed  the  planter,  in  his  deep, 
impressive  voice. 

"  So  they've  been  sayin'  a  good  while,"  returned  the  scalp  hunter,  with  a 
smile  of  incredulity.  "  They've  been  talkin'  about  their  arnestness,  like  all  the 
other  colonists,  ever  since  I  was  knee  high ;  and  while  they've  been  talkin' 
the  monster  has  grown  big  enough  to  strangle  'em.  Why  in  the  name  of 
human  natur'  don't  the  critters  do  somethin'  ?" 

"  They  have,  at  last !"  said  the  planter. 

"  Got  up  a  petition,  or  an  indignation  meetin',  I  s'pose,"  observed  the  scalp 
hunter,  with  a  slight  sneer. 

" No,"  returned  the  planter,  calmly.     " Better  than  that!" 

"  They  hev  gone  in  a  body  to  the  Governor  and  told  him  they  had  no 
more  money  to  pay,  and  he'd  have  to  'get  the  taxes  by  selling  their  prop- 
erty?" 

"  No  ;    better  than  that" 

"  They  have  clubbed  together,  got  the  collector  into  their  midst  by  a  strata- 
gem, and  putting  a  pistol  to  bis  head  threatened  to  blow  out  his  brains  ef  he 
didn't  sign  their  receipts  in  full,  and  swear  he  had  lost  the  money  ?"  con- 
tinued the  scalp  hunter,  in  the 'same  sneering  tone. 

"  Better  than  that !" 

"They  hev  gone  in  a  body  to  the  Governor  and  told  him  if  he  wouldn't - 
pick  up  his  traps  and  quit  the  province,  they  would  !" 

"  Better  than  that  1" 

"  Neil,"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  dropping  his  vein  of  irony,  and  addressing 
the  planter  in  a  tone  of  unusual  tenderness  mingled  with  reproach,  "  I  begin 
to  think  yew  are  fooling  me  in  this  matter,  or  else  air  yourself  deceived.  It 
is  unpossible,  it  'pears  to  me,  for  yew  to  go  agin  your  character  and  turn  jester 
even  on  a  pint  like  this ;  and  equally  as  unpossible,  'cording  to  my  idees,  for 
these  critters,  who  hev  endured  their  heavy  yoke  so  long,  to  have  grit  enough 
left  to  rise  up  agin  it  now  !" 

"  I  am  not  one  to  trifle  with  the  credulity  of  any  man  or  men,  let  alone 
my  friends,"  answered  Neil  Somers,  in  his  usual  calm  voice ;  "  nor  do  I  think 
I  am  deceived  in  the  matter  of  which  we  have  been  speaking.  I  have  heard 
with  my  own  ears,  I  have  seen  with  my  own  eyes,  Nat ;  and  it  is  from  what 
I  have  heard  and  what  I  have  seen  that  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  the 
people  are  in  earnest,  now !" 

"  Tell  me,  Neil,  what  it  is  you  hev  heerd,"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  drawing 
closer  to  his  companion,  and  preparing  every  sense  to  catch  each  expression 
of  voice,  feature  and  movement  of  the  planter. 

"  I  have  heard  the  people,"  said  Neil  Somers,  in  his  calm,  impressive 
voice,  "  in^ruct  their  representatives,  publicly,  to  take  some  measures  to 
warn  the  crown  of  their  determination  to  put  up  no  longer  with  its  oppres- 
sive exactions,  and  of  their  unalterable  resolution  to  unite  with  the  inhabitants 
of  the  other  colonies  in  resisting  its  insolent  and  arbitrary  encroachments  on 
their  rights  as  citizens,  and  on  their  feelings  as  men." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  "  that  now  is  some'n  like  1     Go  on  I" 

"  I  have  heard  their  representatives,  that  is  to  say,  the  provincial  congress, 
declaim  aloud,  in  honorable  and  justly  indignant  terms,  against  the  baseness 
of  the  crown  in  conceiving  its  atrocities  and  against  the  baser  souls  of  its 
minions,  who  sought  to  carry  those  atrocities  into  execution  by  inflicting 
them  upon  the  people." 

"  Good  agin  I"  exclaimed  the  scalp  hunter,  with  a  slight  smile  of  irony. 
"  And  that  was  the  end  of  their  patriotism  ?" 


g  THE   SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

"No/"  answered  Neil  Somers,  bending  his  calm  eyes  somewhat  reproach- 
fully, upon  his  companion.  "  You  have  not  heard  enough  to  form  a  judg- 
ment; you  have  heard  what  /have  heard,  but  you  have  not  yet  heard  what 
I  have  seen  /" 

"  True.  Well,  to  justify  your  idee  that  the  people  are  in  aniest  upon  these 
matters,  what  hev  yew  seen?" 

"  I  have  seen  them,"  resumed  Neil  Somers,  calmly,  "  pledge  themselves 
by  word  and  signature,  to  refuse  to  use,  and  to  prevent  the  importation  of, 
goods  and  merchandise  from  the  mother  country ;  and  in  keeping  with  this 
pledge,  I  have  seen  them  go  at  midnight,  masked  and  disguised,  on  board  the 
shipping  in  Cooper  Bay,  and,  like  their  brethren  of  Boston,  take  the  tea,  and 
other  merchandise  and  tumble  it  into  the  river.  I  have  seen  them  in  the 
still  dark  hours  of  night,  break  open  the  public  armory,  abstract  its  muskets, 
cutlasses,  cartouches,  flints,  matches  and  other  materials  of  war.  I  have  seen, 
them  forcibly  enter  the  public  powder  magazines,  seize  all  the  ammunition, 
and  convey  it  away  to  a  secret  spot  known  only  to  themselves,  so  as  to  have 
it  ready  in  the  hour  of  need.  I  have  seen  and  heard  the  provincial  congress 
of  our  province  respond  with  heart  and  hand  to  the  recommendation  of  the 
continental  congress  to  oppose,  by  every  means  in  their  power,  every  meas- 
ure of  the  home  government  bearing  upon  the  colonies,  and  to  destroy  every 
vestige  of  trade  between  them,  until  the  crown  shall  relieve  them  of  their 
present  sufferings  and  redress  the  outrages  it  has  committed  upon  them  in 
the  past !" 

"  All  this  is  good,  all  this  looks  well,  all  this  shows  like  the  rale  grit !"  ob- 
served Nat,  after  a  brief  pause.  "  And  it  will  lead  to  sum'n  serious  for  the 
colonists,"  he  added  thoughtfully ;  "for  King  George  is  vain,  and  will  not 
quietly  put  up  with  such  an  insult  to  his  pride ;  he  is  rich  and  sassy,  too,  and 
rich  and  sassy  men  wunt  'low  enny  body  t«  be  sassy  but  themselves  ;  and 
he  is  strong  also,  with  soldiers  and  men-of-war  enough  to  blow  the  colonies 
to  powder  by  the  cord.  Yes,  Neil — it'll  be  a  serious  matter  1" 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that,  Nat  But  however  serious  it  may  prove, 
they  will  find  a  friend  in  you — will  they  not  ?"  said  Neil  Somers,  bending  his 
eyes  with  a  nervous,  yet  confident  glance  on  the  scalp  hunter. 

"  Why,  as  to  that,  Neil,"  returned  the  latter,  "  there  kin  be  but  onS  'pin- 
ion. My  natur  don't  jibe  with  Kings  nor  red  skins,  for  they  both  prey  upon 
the  people.  The  citizens  in  Charleston  could  git  along  bravely,  ef  it  wus'nt 
for  the  King,  who  taxes  'em  to  death ;  and  the  yeomanry  in  lie  settlements 
conld  swim  along  handsomely  if  it  warn't  for  the  yaller  bellies.  Take  away 
both  these  varmint,  and  this  province  would  be  one  of  the  happiest  and  most 
prosperous  in  all  creation." 

"  You  reason  well,  Nat !" 

"  The  crown  is  strong,  Neil,  and  so  air  the  yaller  bellies ;  but  I  have  fout 
them  varmint  for  hard  on  to  twenty  years,  and  though  I've  dropped  a  good 
menny  on  'em  in  that  time,  they  haven't  succeeded  as  yet  in  spilling  me,  and 
I  kalkilate  on  sweatin'  a  few  more  on  'em  afore  I  lay  by  for  good.  ;  And  so  I 
hold  the  'pinion  that  the  provinces,  kin  give  old  King  G-eorge  a  small  sprink- 
lin'  of  powder  and  lead  in  exchange  for  his'n,  for  a  good  long  time  to  come, 
if  they  make  up  their  minds  to  do  so,  jest  as  I  hev  done  to  the  Ingins.  And 
when  they  undertake  that  bisness,  old  Sal  and  I  will  jine  and  give  em  a  lift !" 
I  didn't  expect  anything  less  of  you,  Nat  I"  exclaimed  the  planter,  ex- 
tending his  hand,  which  the  scalp  hunter  grasped  warmly  in  his  large,  vice- 
like  palm.  "  As  for  me,"  continued  Neil  Somers,  taking  off  his  cap,  and  lift-  • 
ing  up  his  eyes  reverently,  "I  have  already  pledged  myself,  in  sight  of  the 
trreat  Supreme,  to  give  my  thoughts,  my  heart,  my  hand,  my  every  energy, 
to  my  country  in  her  struggle  with  this  proud,  bad  man  this  unfeeling  and  op- 
pressive King!" 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"That  is  like  yew.  Neil!"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  in  admiration.  "I  hev 
known  yew  ever  since  you  were  knee  high,  and  yew  was  allers  the  same 
pure-minded  and  high-soiled  creeter.  Let  what  will  turn  up,  you  will  all' era 
be  found  on  the  right  side.  I  know  yew  Neil,  and  I  like  yew,  because  I  hev 
all'ers  found  yew  of  the  right  stripe  and  of  the  rale  ginooine  grit  in  every- 
thing. I  hev  remarked  you  for  a  good  menny  years,  and  at  all  times  with 
pleasure.  Every  family  all'ers  has  sum  one  in  it  who  is  better  than  all  the 
others  put  together.  Sumtimes  it  is  the  oldest,  at  others  the  youngest — and 
then  agin  it  ain't  in  the  father  nor  the  children,  but  in  the  mother ;  but  every 
family  has  its  angel,  whose  modest,  quiet,  noble,  uncomplaining  spirit  redeems 
partially  all  that  is  bad  and  ignoble  in  the  rest.  In  your  family,  Neil,  yew 
hev  ever  been  the  angel.  Nay,  blush  not — yew  know  Nat  Akarman  is  no 
flatterer,  and  that  what  he  says  he  means.  Trew  worth  never  travels  along 
the  highroad  of  life,  without  having  a  certain  amount  of  moral  weight  and 
influence  hangin'  to  its  coat,  which  all  men  are  willin'  tp  acknowledge  the 
strength  of,  and  a  few  ready  to  hold  up.  Now  I  regard  yew  as  a  truth  tellin1 
man,  and  your  word  is  'titled  to  respect ;  and  when  yew  say  yew  believe  the 
people  air  in  'arnest,  and  that  you  intend  to  follow  'em  in  their  struggle  I 
feel  .that  I  am  bound  to  believe  yew,  and  to  follow  yew  tu,  when  and 
wherever  yew  may  go!" 

"  Thank  you — thank  you,  Nat — thank  you !"  said  the  planter,  pressing  his 
hand — with  a  slight  degree  of  emotion.  "  'Tis  thus,  with  confidence  like 
yours,  that  men  should  enlist  in  the  sacred  cause  of  humanity !" 

"  But  yew  hev  not  told  me  all,  Neil,"  said  the  scalp  hunter  regarding  him 
earnestly.  "There's  a  suthin'  in  your  eye  which  is  as  yet  unuttered;  a 
suthin'  that  strikes  home.  Suthin'  has  gone  wrong  with  yew.  What  is  it? 
I  kin  read  a  sutiiin'  in  your  manner,  which  tells  me  your  heart  is  bleedin.' 
What  is  it  ?  Kin  I  du  enny  thing  for  you — if  so,  say  it !  Yew  are  at  that 
age  when  men  take  a  sartain  fever — yew  know  what  I  mean,  don't  yew? — 
the  heart's  disease.  Is't  that?  Has  your  sweetheart,  Amy  Winter,  quar- 
relled with  you  ?" 

He  paused,  and  the  smile  which  accompanied  his  last  observation,  disap- 
peared, and  its  place  was  instantly  taken  by  an  expression  of  intense  anxiety. 

"Why,  Neil!"  he  continued,  "what's  the  matter — yew  don't  blush  when 
I  pronounce  Amy's  name,  but  turn  pale !  What's  the  matter  ?  Hev  yew 
met  her  brother  Dick  in  some  nice,  solitary  spot,  and  made  the  varmint  pay 
for  layin  'poor  Alice  in  her  airly  grave  ?" 

The  young  planter,  with  a  violent  effort  drove  back  a  spasm  which  this  al- 
lusion to  his  lost  sister  called  up,  and  mournfully  shook  his  head.  • 

"Oh,  blast  my  old  scalp!"  exclaimed  the  woodsman,  "here I've  ben  gittin' 
on  the  wrong  trail,  and  in  so  doin'  draggin'  up  old  memories  which  must 
make  your  heart  ache  wuss  'n  pizin !  I'm  a  big  brute — wuss  than  a  yal- 
ler  befly!  Kick  me — cuss  me — shoot  me,  Neil!  I  deserve  it,  wuss  'n  a 
red  skin !" 

The  cloud  passed  away  from  the  planter's  brow ;  the  agony  vanished  in  a 
great  measure  from  his  eye ;  and  his  face  though  still  pale,  became  lighted 
up  with  a  majestic  and  heavenly  smile.  He  stretched  forth  his  arm,  and 
taking  the  scalp  hunter's  hand,  pressed  it,  saying — 

"Between  us,  Nat,  no  secrets.  The  arrows  you  threw  were  friendly  ones, 
and  left  no  poison  where  they  struck.  I  have  had  no  quarrel  with  Amy 
Winter,  no  meeting  with  her  brother.  I  have  no  fear  of  the  first,  and  now 
that  the  country  has  need  of  my  life,  I  have  no  wish  for  the  latter.  Had  we 
met  previous  to  my  visit  to  Charleston,  one  or  both  of  us  must  have  fallen." 
2 


10  THE   SWAMP   STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

«  Still  yew  hev  a  grief,"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  in  a  tone  of  affectionate  so- 
licitude. "  Your  mother— nuthin'  has  befallen  her  ?' 

Nev  Somers  was  silent  a  moment:  his  eyes  lowered  thoughtfully  on  his 
rifle.  At  length, 

"  Nat,"  said  he,  with  a  tranquil  smile,  '  as  I  have  already  said,  no  secrets 
between  us.  You  have  known  me  from  my  childhood  up  till  now,  and  are 
somewhat  aware  of  the  main  outlines  of  my  family's  history,  but  not  wholly. 
Let  me  now  familiarize  you  with  the  details,  and  you  can  then  judge  fairly 
of  my  position." 

"  My  father  was  a  young  and  very  handsome  English  officer ;  of  a  pleas- 
ing address,  winning  manners,  and  highly  accomplished  in  all  those  little  arts 
which  render  unscrupulous  men  successful  with  women.  A  younger  son,  he 
had  nothing  to  hope  from  his  parents,  who,  in  educating  and  securing  him  a 
commission  in  the  army,  washed  their  hands  of  him  and  left  him  to  shift  for 
himself. 

"  He  was  at  that  time  a  heartless  and  unprincipled  adventurer ;  greatly  in 
debt,  in  continual  fear  of  imprisonment,  and  saw  no  loophole  of  escape 
except  through  a  mercenary  marriage.  There  were  however  too  many  of 
his  kind  in  London  for  him  to  expect  to  accomplish  any  thing  there,  and  he 
found  himself  under  the  necessity  of  looking  somewhere  else  for  a  victim. 

"  After  a  season  he  selected  Somersetshire  for  the  scene  of  his  matrimonial 
adventure,  and  accordingly  posted  thither.  He  put  up  at  the  best  inn  in  the 
village  at  which  he  stopped,  made  love  to  and  seduced  the  landlord's  daugh- 
ter, and  during  his  liason  with  her,  spared  nothing  to  make  himself  familiar 
with  the  character  and  pecuniary  condition  of  the  inhabitants. 

"Not  satisfied  with  one  victim,  he  pursued  his  libertine  career  in  almost 
every  family  in  which  his  engaging  appearance,  winning  manners  and  fasci- 
nating conversational  powers  had  gained  him  a  footing.  At  length,  his  char- 
acter began  to  be  understood,  and  one  door  after  another  was  closed  upon 
him,  till  none  remained  open  to  him  but  those  of  his  victims,  each  of  whom 
his  specious  tongue  had  persuaded  was  the  favored  one.  la,  time,  however, 
even  these  were  shut,  and  legal  proceedings  were  about  to  be  instituted 
against  him. 

"  He  was  cut  off  from  every  chance  of  escape,  and  universally  execrated. 

"  To  crown  his  critical  position,  warrants  were  out  against  him  for  debt, 
and  he  was  liable  every  moment  to  arrest. 

"In  this  situation  his  confidence  deserted  him,  and  he  scarcely  knew 
what  to  think  or  do. 

"  Where  he  had  the  least  right  to  look  for  help,  there  it  appeared. 

"  He  was  sitting  one  evening  in  his  room  at  the  inn,  when  his  first  victim 
hurriedly  opened  the  door,  and  in  a  voice  of  deep  agitation  exclaimed — 

"Oh,  Lionel!  take  this  purse — it  contains  fifty  guineas — and  fly!  My 
father  Has  discovered  my  relations  with  you,  and  has  gone  to  the  magistrate  s 
at  the  next  town  to  have  you  arrested.  He  will  be  back  at  daylight  and  then 
you  will  be  lost.  Worse  than  that — two  officers  have  just  arrived  from  Lon- 
don with  writs  against  you  for  debt  They  are  now  in  the  house,  and  con- 
certing to  take  you  by  surprise  in  the  morning.  Fly,  or  you  are  lost!" 
' '  How  can  I  fly  ?'  said  he : 

'"I  have  ordered  Tom  the  ostler  to  lead  a  horse  and  wagon  to  the  cross 
road.  You  will  find  it  there.  Oh,  fly !  not  a  moment  is  to  be  lost !' 

"  He  took  the  purse  unblushingly,  thrust  it  into  his  pocket,  and  giving  her  a 
hasty  embrace,  slipped  out  of  the  inn,  flew  up  the  avenue  to  the  cross  roads, 
where  he  found  the  horse  and  wagon,  threw  the  ostler  a  shilling,  and  seizing 
the  whip  and  rein,  took  the  road  leading,  as  he  supposed,  to  Ijondon. 

He  drove  all  night,  and  entered  a  small  village  just  as  dawn  was  break- 
ing. But  his  horse  was  ruined.  The  animal  had  been  driven  so  hard,  that 
it  foundered  and  fell  dead  opposite  a  handsome  cottage,  where  dwelt  a  re- 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  ll 

tired  merchant  and  his  only  daughter,  who  had  witnessed  the  incident  from 
their  windows. 

"  He  was  invited  into  the  house,  where  he  soon  made  himself  at  home,  and 
by  a  romantic  story  about  losing  his  way  on  his  route  to  London,  created  in 
them  an  interest  in  his  favor  which  was  equally  shared  by  father  and  daugh- 
ter, who,  fascinated  by  his  air  and  conversation,  urged  him  to  spend  a  few 
weeks  with  them,  an  invitation  he  did  not  permit  them  to  repeat. 

"  In  a  few  days,  he  learned  enough  of  their  position  to  convince  him  that 
here  was  the  golden  egg  he  had  so  long  been  seeking ;  and  he  forthwith  set 
all  of  his  powers  in  play  to  win  the  young  lady's  heart. 

"  Unaccustomed  to  the  society  of  such  men,  ignorant  of  the  world  and  the 
arts  of  its  adventurers,  she  regarded  Lionel  as  the  most  fascinating  and  ac- 
complished man  in  the  world,  and  yielded  her  love  to  him  who  sought  it  not 
for  its  own  richness,  but  for  the  wealth  that  followed  it. 

"  His  romantic  story  of  being  an  orphan,  without  kindred  or  friends,  was 
readily  believed,  and  the  merchant,  living  only  for  his  daughter's,  happiness, 
rashly  gave  his  consent  to  their  hasty  union,  and  they  were  married  without 
any  farther  ceremony  than  that  which  the  church  imposed. 

"But  scarcely  had  their  honey-moon  begun,  when  his, London  creditors 
discovered  his  whereabouts  and  position,  and  pounced  upon  him.  The  mer- 
chant however,  calmly  settled  their  claims,  and  manifested  no  surprise  on 
learning  through  them  the  real  history  of  his  son-in-law ;  and  although  he  was 
somewhat  staggered  by  the  discovery,  he  kept  the  secret  to  himself  and  al- 
lowed the  honey-moon  to  pass  over  without  acquainting  his  daughter  with 
it 

"  In  a  few  months,  the  details  of  Lionel's  career  at  the  village  in  Somer- 
setshire reached  his  ears,  and  so  horrified  him,  that  it  brought  on  a  paralysis 
•which  eventually  killed  him. 

"  At  her  father's  death,  Alice,  his  daughter,  took  possession  of  his  proper- 
ty, and  having  by  that  time  learned  enough  relative  to  her  husband  to  retain 
the  control  of  the  property  in  her  own  hands,  she  did  so :  allowing  him 
enough  however  to  live  handsomely, -provided  he  indulged  in  no  heavy  ex- 
travagances. 

."  But  the  poor  creature's  heart  was  crushed ;  the  caresses  which  she 
showered  upon  her  infant  boy  were  always  accompanied  with  tears.  Silent 
and  uncomplaining,  she  bore  his  indifference,  desertion  and  neglect  without  a 
murmur  ;  and  to  set  her  cup  of  misery  running  over,  reports  of  his  libertine 
career  in  the  village  in  which  they  lived  were  continually  pouring  in  upon 
her,  and  adding  fresh  agonies  to  her  heart. 

"  By  the  advice  of  her  friends,  she  cut  off  a  large  share  of  his  income,  and 
then  settled  the  whole  of  her  property  and  wealth  upon  her  child.  This  at 
first  led  to  fierce  and  violent  reproaches  on  his  part,  and  subsequently  even 
to  blows !  This  she  could  not  endure,  and  a  separation  was  the  consequence. 

"  In  a  few  months  the  libertine's  outward  conduct  changed ;  he  even  car- 
ried his  hypocrisy  so  far  as  to  send  her  a  letter  affecting  sorrow  and  contrition 
for  his  past  life,  begging  her  forgiveness  of  his  errdrs,  stating  that  he  was  on 
the  point  of  leaving  England  forever,  as  his  shame  would  not  permit  him  to 
remain  in  a  land  where  dwelt  one  whom  he  had  so  foully  outraged  and  so 
violently  wronged,  and  entreating  as  a  favor,  not  a  right,  the  privilege  of  cal- 
ling on  her  and  bidding  her  and  his  boy  a  parting  adieu. 

"  Innocent  and  guileless,  she  fell  into  the  snare,  and  sent  him  a  note  con- 
senting to  the  interview.  The  consequences  were  natural,  when,  of  the  two 
parties  t»  that  meeting,  the  one  was  an  artful,  designing  and  smooth-lipped 
hypocrite,  and  the  other  a  weak,  credulous,  inexperienced  and  forgiving 
woman.  The  pretended  journey  to  another  clime  was  abandoned — the  past, 
forgiven  and  forgotten — the  husband  and  wife  reunited — and  happiness  re- 
stored to  at  least  one  heart. 


12  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DATS 

"  From  that  hour  all  was  apparently  well ;  the  libertine  appeared  to  have 
discovered  and  appreciated  the  villainy  of  his  career,  repented  and  reformed;. 
the  darkness  of  the  past  had  vanished,  and  light  was  once  more  restored  to 
the  household.  Weeks  passed  away  thus  into  months,  the  months  into  a 
year  •  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  misery  returned  again  to  the  husband  and 
the  wife,  but  without  dividing  them — their  boy  died,  and  they  were  childless. 

"The 'days  of  mourning  passed  away,  and  the  bereaved  mother  consoled 
herself  for  the  loss  of  her  little  one  with  the  tenderness  and  caresses  of  her 
Lionel,  whose  affection  appeared  to  grow  stronger  and  deeper  with  each  suc- 
ceeding day. 

"  At  length,  when  there  could  no  longer  be  any  lingering  doubts  of  the 
genuineness  of  his  reformation,  his  affection,  or  his  caresses,  he  said  to  her : 

" '  My  Alice,  let  us  quit  these  scenes  made  sad  to  us  by  my  errors,  and  the 
death  of  our  child,  and  go  in  search  of  fresh  happiness  on  the  shores  of  the 
New  World — that  land  of  loveliness  and  romance.  There  let  us  build  us  a 
cot  on  the  banks  of  one  of  its  silver  lakes,  and  there,  beneath  the  green  vine 
and  the  sweet  scented  air,  let  us  glide  down  the  stream  of  time  happy  and 
joyous  as  two  loving  hearts  who  have  no  thoughts  but  for  each  other ! ' 

"  The  credulous  wife,  never  dreaming  of  the  black  treachery  hidden  beneath 
this  request,  and  desiring  nothing  but  the  happiness  of  him  who  appeared  to 
love  her  so  fondly,  acceded  to  his  desire,  and  they  made  preparations  to  leave 
England. 

"  A  few  weeks  only  were  necessary  to  complete  then-  arrangements,  and 
when  every  thing  was  in  readiness  they  took  ship,  set  sail,  and  ere  long  stood 
on  the  shores  of  America. 

"  They  landed  at  Charleston,  where  they  remained  for  a  short  season  till 
they  had  completed  the  purchase  of  a  plantation  near  Kingstree.  where  I  was 
born. 

"  Here  they  lived  happily,  till  in  an  evil  hour,  my  mother,  who  till  that 
time  had  retained  the  major  part  of  her  property  in  her  own  right,  turned  it 
over  to  my  father.  Then  he  dropped  the  mask — the  fruits  of  his  hypocrisy 
were  in  his  hand,  and  from  that  hour  he  was  a  brute,  and  she  a  weak,  appal- 
led and  affrighted  slave.  True,  there  were  occasional  moments  when  his 
brutal  nature  slept,  and  his  better  angel  awoke,  and  in  these  fits  he  was  all 
love,  gentleness  and  kindness ;  but  such  instances  were  rare,  and  when  they 
came,  but  faintly  atoned  for  his  harsh  and  ignoble  treatment  in  the  long  in- 
tervals between  them. 

"  When  I  was  about  five  years  old,  my  mother  gave  birth  to  two  twin 
babes ;  they  were  boys,  and  it  was  hoped  that  the  singular  similarity  of  their 
features,  their  innocent  caresses,  and  the  close  resemblance  they  bore  to  the 
author  of  their  being  would  be  enough  to  win  back  the  gentle  nature  of  their 
father. 

"  This  hope  was  not  wholly  disappointed.  He  abandoned  in  a  measure  his 
libertine  habits,  spent  more  of  his  time  at  home  and  less  of  it  abroad,  and  in 
fine  became  less  of  a  devil,  and  more  of  a  man.  He  treated  my  mother  some- 
what more  generously,  and  appeared  to  a  certain  degree  reformed. 

"  All  this  brought  once  more  a  partial  happiness  to  our  household ;  the 
bloom  that  had  vanished  from  my  mother's  cheek  returned ;  her  eye  that  had 
so  long  been  dimmed  with  sorrow,  brightened  again,  under  the  genial  sun- 
shine that  hovered  around  her  home. 

"When  I  was  about  eight  years  old,  my  sister  Alice  was  born.  You  re- 
member her,  Nat — don't  you,  she  was  the  picture  of  her  mother.  The  twins, 
Frederick  and  George,  were  about  three  years  old  at  the  time,  and  were  re- 
markable for  their  precocious  intellects  and  matchless  beauty  and  my  father 
was  accustomed  to  take  them  with  him  in  his  rides  and  iaunts  around  the 
province. 

"  One  morning,  about  a  fortnight  after  the  birth  of  my  sister,  he  took  a 


* 

OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    KEN.  13 

large  amount  of  money  from  the  house,  and,  saying  that  he  intended  to  go  a 
little  ways  up  the  province  to  complete  the  purchase  of  a  plantation  of  which 
we  had  frequently  heard  him  speak,  ordered  the  twins  to  be  got  ready,  as  he 
intended  to  take  them  with  him.  While  this  was  being  done,  he  command- 
ed a  slave  to  harness  his  favorite  mare  to  the  family  gig,  and  lead  her  round 
gate. 

'•'  As  his  was  an  imperious  nature,  he  was  speedily  obeyed  in  both  cases ; 
when  taking  the  twins  into  the  vehicle,  he  seated  himself  between  them,  and 
without  even  a  simple  adieu,  drove  off. 

"  That  day  passed  away,  and  the  next,  and  the  day  following  that,  but 
brought  no  tidings  of  them. 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  my  mother,  whose  distress  you  per- 
haps can  fancy,  went  to  her  escrutoir,  from  whence  my  father  had  taken  the 
money,  and  there  to  her  amazement  discovered  a  small  note  addressed  to 
herself,  and  written  in  a  hand  that  she  recognized  in  an  instant.  She  opened 
it,  and  read  as  follows : — 

"  '  I  have  purposely  deceived  you.  I  am  not  going  to  buy  another  planta- 
tion, but  to  visit  England,  where  I  shall  remain.  Frederick  and  George,  who 
in  all  things  resemble  their  father,  will  go  with  me — you  have  seen  them  for 
the  last  time.  Neil  and  Alice,  who  in  all  things  remind  one  of  their  mother, 
you  can  keep.  I  leave  you  the  plantation,  the  slaves,  and  three  thousand 
pounds  in  cash ;  they  are  enough  to  support  three  persons.  The  remaining 
seventeen  thousand  pounds  I  shall  carry  with  me.'  Adieu  I 

LIONEL  SOMERS.' 

"  My  motb«v  -was  appalled,  bewildered,  stunned,  on  reading  this  cruel  letter, 
and  fell  to  the  floor  like  one  struck  by  a  shaft  of  lightning. 

"  Her  attendants,  in  alarm,  called  in  two  or  three  of  the  neighbors,  who 
on  perceiving  the  crumpled  note  in  her  clenched  hand,  and  supposing  it  would 
prove  a  key  to  her  swoon,  strove  to  withdraw  it ;  but  in  vain — she  clasped 
it  with  the  tenacity  of  steel :  it  was  not  till  the  third  day  of  her  inert  state 
that  her%enses  returned,  her  feelings  melted,  and  her  hand  unlocked. 

"But  it  was  too  late  to  hope  to  come  up  with  the  deserter,  who  was  six 
days  in  advance  of  his  pursuers,  who,  on  reaching  Charleston  discovered  that 
my  father,  with  his  twin  sons,  had  sailed  three  days  before  for  England,  and 
was  then  upon  the  sea. 

"  My  mother's  gentle  nature  yielded  for  a  season  to  this  rude  blow ;  and 
then  her  spirit  rose  to  encounter  the  cares  of  conducting  her  estate.  But 
nature  had  not  endowed  her  with  business  attributes.  The  plantation,  in  her 
hands,  as  well  in  those  whom  she  had  successively  •  engaged  to  manage  it, 
was  a  losing  property.  In  a  few  years  it  was  covered  with  debts  and  mort- 
gages, the  latter  held  by  Abel  Winter,  a  neighboring  planter,  who  took,  one 
after  another  of  our  slaves  to  satisfy  his  claims  till  scarcely  a  negro  was  left 
to  cultivate  our  fields. 

"  On  reaching  my  seventeenth  year,  my  mother  entrusted  the  management 
of  the  entire  estate  to  my  hands.  Brought  up  in  a  household  of  trials  and 
yrivations,  my  mind  was  active,  energetic,  observing  and  reflective. 

"  My  first  step  was  to  discover  the  actual  position  of  the  estate.  I  found 
wae  mortgage  and  a  few  small  debts.  To  take  up  the  first,  I  persuaded  my 
mother  to  convey  to  Mr.  Winter,  the  holder  of  the  claim,  one-third  of  our 
Vinds ;  the  sale  of  another  eighth  liquidated  the  second,  and  the  plantation 
was  thus  reduced  to  one  half  its  original  size  and  value :  but  thai  half  was  free 
•ad  unencumbered. 

"We  had  now  only  twenty  negroes,  butrthat  number  was  quite  enough  to 
•work  our  fields,  which,  soon  began  to  tell  favorably,  and  our  plantation  ere 
oug  wore  a  thrifty  and  profitable  aspect. 

"  In  a  few  years,  we  were  easy  and  comfortable ;  our  rice  fields,  thorough- 


14  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS. 

ly  cultivated  made  us  noble  returns ;  our  negroes,  carefully  attended  and 
kindly  treated,  loved  us  and  repaid  our  kindness  by  making  our  interests  their 
own ;  our  exchequer  was  well  lined,  and,  except  in  our  domestic  calamities, 
we  had  nothing  to  disturb  us. 

"  It  was  at  this  time  that  Richard  Winter  paid  his  addresses  to  my  sister. 
She  was  young,  artless,  credulous  and — " 

The  planter  paused ;  a  mist  passed  over  his  eyes ;  his  voice  became  thick 
and  dry  •  the  muscles  of  his  countenance  twitched  with  an  internal  spasm ; 
a  tremor  passed  over  his  whole  frame,  and  then  again  all  was  calm.  His  eyes 
became  clear  and  dry ;  his  voice  distinct  and  moist;  the  muscles  of  his  face 
lay  tranquil;  and  his  breast  was  calm  as  though  it  had  never  known  aught 
to  disturb  its  repose. 

"  She  became  his  victim,  as  many  another  had  become  the  victim  of  her 
father.  She  reposes  in  a  quiet  corner  of  the  village,  churchyard,  with  no  stone 
or  other  sign  to  mark  her  resting  place,  or  tell  the  world  of  the  shame  that 
paled  her  cheek,  of  the  grief  that  consumed  her  heart,  of  the  woe  which,  like 
a  serpent's  tongue,  in  the  brief  period  of  three  months  made  her  first  a  victim, 
then  a  crushed  end  tottering  skeleton,  and  then  a  corse. 

"  She  kept  the  secret  of  her  grief  from  all  till  she  felt  she  was  about  to  die ; 
then  committing  it  to  paper,  which  she  hid  beneath  her  pillow,  she  laid  her- 
self down,  and  her  meek,  bruised  spirit  passed  quietly  away  to  the  land  of 
shadows. 

"  After  her  death,  the  paper  and  its  secret  were  discovered.  My  mother, 
of  all  our  household,  alone  was  calm.  A  slight  spasm  coursed  for  a  moment 
through  her  frame ;  another  and  a  deeper  shade  of  paleness  settled  upon  her 
features,  and  then  all  was  tranquil  as  before. 

"  As  for  me,  I  sprang  upon  my  horse,  and  flew  to  the  house  of  her  seducer, 
forgetting  in  my  frenzy  that  he  had  left  it,  on  a  visit  to  another  part  of  the 
province  some  two  weeks  before. 

"  I  saw  his  father,  who  affected  astonishment  and  sympathy.  I  saw  Amy, 
who  affected  nothing ;  but  who  wrung  her  hands  in  anguish  at  her  brother's 
villainy ;  in  shame,  for  the  dishonor  his  treachery  had  brought  .upon*  the  family 
name  ;  and  in  sympathy  for  me,  for  her  heart  had  long  beat  in  harmonious 
response  to  every  throb  of  mine. 

"  I  would  have  pursued  and  slain  him ;  but  my  mother,  laying  her  small, 
pale  hand  on  my  arm,  looked  at  me  with  her  calm,  impressive  eye,  and  said 
— '  Leave  him,  my  son,  in  the  hands  of  God  ;  it  is  my  wish !' 

"  I  got  off  my  horse,  and  obeyed  her,  as  I  had  ever  been  accustomed  to 
from  my  earliest  infancy  till  then,  although  it  nearly  broke  my  heart.  '  Pa- 
tience, my  son,'  she  added,  with  a  smile,  which  was  sublime  in  its  tranquility 
and  sweetness,  '  vengeance  is  not  ours,  but  His  /' 

"  I  could  not  dispute  with,  nor  say  an  angry  word  to,  my  mother.  She 
gave  me  her  love,  her  heart,  her  affection ;  I  owed  her  in  return  at  least 
obedience ! 

"  Some  weeks  ago,  business  called  me  to  Charleston.  There  I  found  every 
body  in  a  state  of  agitation  relative  to  the  tyrannic  proceedings  of  the  King. 
The  city  was  in  a  ferment  Young  men  were  gloomy,  old  men  threatening, 
brows ;  eyes  flashed  here,  there  and  every  where,  like  rapiers  leaping  from 
their  scabbards  in  the  sunlight  I  did  not  understand  it ;  and  asked  the  mat- 
ter. '  The  King  says  he'll  tax  us  as  much  as  he  pleases,'  was  the  reply,  and 
will  not  even  let  us  choose  our  own  provincial  officer^.  We  are  henceforth 
to  hav  e  no  voice  in  public  affairs,  no  elections,  no  representatives.  The  King 
wW  force  upon  us  for  rulers  just  such  creatures  as  he  pleases ;  we  are  to  have 
no  say  in  any  thing;  we  are  to«ubmit  to  the  condition  and  position  of  vas- 
sals, and  to  bow  our  necks  and  submit  to  be  kicked,  cuffed  and  robbed  as 
often  as  it  shall  please  King  George.  We  are  to  be  taxed  and  trampled  upon 
according  to  his  majesty's  good  will  and  pleasure,  and  if  we  murmur  we  are 


* 

OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERILY    MEN.  15 

U>  be  arrested  and  thrown  into  the  provost,  and  be  left  there  to  rot  tifl  we 
learn  to  bow  in  servile  submission  to  every  decree  that  may  spring  from  the 
royal  noddle.' 

"  My  blood  became  agitated  as  I  heard  this ;  and  I  remembered  the  mur- 
murs of  discontent  which  I  had  heard  for  long  months  in  Kingstree,  and  other 
parts  of  the  district  of  Williamsburgh.  '  Blood  will  grow  out  of  this,'  I  mut- 
tered ;  for  the  Carolinians  are  proud,  intelligent  and  brave,  and  not  of  a  breed 
accustomed  to  lick  the  hand  that  smites  '  em !' 

"  Nor  was  I  wrong  in  my  conjecture.  The  people  hold  private  meetings, 
to  one  of  which  my  known  liberal  opinions  secured  me  an  invitation ;  and  I 
learned  that  they  had  determined  to  upset  as  much  as  possible  the  grasping 
calculations  of  the  government — by  doing  mischief  for  the  public  weal— de- 
stroying goods  belonging  to  that  great  monopoly  patronized  and  sustained  by 
the  ministry,  namely,  the  East  India  Company ;  destroying  teas  and  dry 
goods,  throwing  overboard  every  thing  which  the  government  have  been  in 
the  habit  of  oppressing  the  people  by  laying  high  taxes  upon. 

"  Engaged  commonly  in  this  work,  I  found  all  ranks ;  and  prominent  in  it, 
the  noblest,  purest,  bravest,  and  most  intelligent  men  of  the  province ;  and  I 
resolved,  come  what  would,  that  in  the  hour,  which  I  foresaw  must  come, 
when  the  people  rose  up  in  the  name  of  suffering  humanity  to  shake  off  the 
grasp  of  the  tyrant  and  punish  the  insolence  of  his  minions,  Neil  Somers 
would,  BO  help  him  Grod !  march  in  their  ranks,  with  his  sword  on  his  thigh, 
his  war-belt  on  his  shoulder,  and  his  good  rifle  in  his  hand. 

"  One  day  I  encountered  a  gentleman  whose  political  opinions  jarred  on 
coming  in  contact  with  mine ;  we  discussed  the  recent  acts  of  the  King,  he 
taking  the  side  of  the  tyran*-.  T  that  of  the  people.  We  were  warm,  but  not 
abusive  in  the  discussion,  and  when  we  parted,  it  was  with  feelings  of  mutual 
respect  for  each  others  honor  as  men,  if  not  of  admiration  for  each  other's 
controversial  -powers. 

"  The  day  following,  he  sent  me  an  invitation  to  a  ball  to  be  held  that 
evening  at  his  house ;  and  as  the  note  accompanying  it  was  couched  in  the 
most  courteous  terms,  and  coupled  with  a  playful  allusion  to  our  discussion, 
I  felt  that  it  was  imperative  upon  me  not  to  slight  or  reject  it. 

"  I  made  my  appearance  at  his  house  about  ten  o'clock,  and  found  the 
rooms  filled  with  the  elite  of  the  city.  The  governor  and  his  suite  were  there, 
togother  with  the  leading  civil  and  military  officers  and  citizens.  Everything 
was  gorgeous,  brilliant  and  beautiful 

"  The  evening  wore  on  towards  midnight.  I  was  a  looker-on,  not  a  par- 
ticipant in  the  festivities :  for  such  things  have  but  little  «charm  for  me. 

"  About  midnight,  then,  the  cloth  was  laid,  and  the  guests  invited  to  the 
table.  The  ball  room  was  in  a  short  time  almost  wholly  deserted.  The 
musicians  had  also  vanished  by  a  private  door  to  indulge  in  the  delights  of  a 
repast 

"  I  was  among  the  first  to  quit  the  table ;  for,  having  taken  no  exercise  I 
had  no  appetite,  and  as  for  drink  I  never  had  any  fondness  for  anything  but 
water.  The  toasts  were  mainly  political,  and  the  company  principally  kings- 
men.  I  could  not  consistently  with  my  views  and  principles  listen  to  the 
first,  and  I  had  no  sympathy  with  the  second.  I  therefore,  watched  my  op- 
portunity, and  when  all  eyes  were  turned  in  another  direction,  I  rose  quietly 
tand  returned  to  the  ball  room,  which  was,  as  I  have  said,  nearly  though  not 
quite  deserted. 
"  Without  meaning  it,  I  had  placed  myself  in  such  a  position  that  I  could 
not  fail  to  have  a  good  view  of  the  guests  as  they  returned  from  the  supper 
room. 

"  It  was  while  in  this  situation  that  I  saw  what  I  am  now  about  to  de- 
scribe ;  what  startled  me  as  though  an  earthquake  had  rent  the  flooring  be- 


16  THE    SWAMP   STEED  J    OR    THK    DAYS 

neath  me ;  and  what,  in  part,  brought  me  here,  Nat,  for  your  counsel  and  as- 
sistance :  for  it  will  show  you  my  position. 

"  The  door  of  the  supper  room  opened,  and  the  guests  began  slowly  to  re- 
turn Among  the  first  were  some  seven  or  eight  merchants  who,  on  reach- 
ing the  ball  room,  came  over  and  seated  themselves  in  front  of  me  upon  a 
settee  which  was  even  with  the  floor,  while  the  one  I  occupied  was  some  in- 
ches above  it. 

"  The  conspicuousness  of  my  position  was  thus  somewhat  neutralized, 
while  it  in  nowise  interfered  with  the  uninterrupted  view  I  had  of  the  guest? 
as,  in  twos  and  threes,  they  entered. 

"  The  commonalty  having  passed  in,  then  followed  the  host  arm-in-arm 
with  his  most  conspicuous  guest,  the  governor. 

"  Behind  the  govermor,  and  in  his  suite,  followed  three  young  beauties, 
daughters  of  the  host,  each  escorted  by  a  young  officer,  glittering  in  gold  and 
scarlet,  whose  countenances,  as  they  advanced  one  after  the  other,  struck 
me  first  with  amazement  and  then  with  confusion. 

"  In  the  first  I  recognized  Richard  Winter,  the  destroyer  of  my  sister. 

"  In  the  other  two,  the  form  and  expression  of  feature,  nay,  the  very  fea- 
tures themselves,  of  my  brutal  and  unprincipled  father,  whose  clear,  bold, 
handsome  lineaments  once  seen  could  never  be  forgotten. 

"I  could  not  be  mistaken.  Age,  appearance,  expression — every  thing 
corresponded.  They  were  my  twin  brothers,  Frederick  and  George ! 

"  They  had  left  the  province,  children ;  they  had  come  back  to  it,  men. 

"  Strikingly  similar,  majestic,  magnificently  hand"some,  there  was  yet  a , 
something  in  their  features  which  made  me  recoil  in  horror. 

"  The  same  wild,  heartless,  libertine  expression  which  marked  the  father's 
countenance,  was  to  me,  who  note  such  things  carefully,  visible  in  theirs. 

"  In  the  governor's  suite,  they  were  necessarily  in  the  royal  service ;  and, 
educated  in  England,  their  political  sympathies  were  of  course  with  the  King, 
and  in  case  of  a  war  between  the  provinces  and  George,  they — my  brothers, 
the  oflspring  of  the  same  womb  that  had  given  me  life,  who  had  drawn  suste- 
nance from  the  same  breast  which  had  nursed  my  infancy, — would  be  found 
on  the  side  of  the  tyrant,  and  their  swords,  talents,  energies  and  intellects 
drawn  against  their  country ! 

"  All  these  thoughts  passed  through  my  brain  with  the  rapidity  of  light- 
ning ;  and  for  a  few  moments  I  was  stunned,  bewildered,  blind. 

"  Meanwhile,  they  had  entered  the  ball-room,  and  following  the  governor 
posted  themselves  at  .some  distance  from  me ;  so  that,  when  I  recovered 
they  were  surrounded  by  a  number  of  young  guests,  of  ftoth  sexes ;  the  one 
to  do  homage  to  the  lovely  brunettes  whom  they  were  fascinating  by  their 
attentions,  the  other  to  attract  the  notice  of  the  twins,  who  were  in  form 
and  feature  superb  types  of  Saxon  masculine  beauty. 

"  Neither  Richard  Winter  nor  the  twin  brothers  had  noticed  my  presence 
in  the  ball-room ;  a  fact  which  was  highly  gratifying,  particularly  as  an  idea 
had  struck  me  the  instant  that  the  cloud,  which  their  unexpected  appearance 
had  thrown  over  my  faculties,  had  lifted  and  passed  away. 

"  I  resolved  to  take  my  departure ;  but  previously  to  that,  it  was  essential 
to  learn  the  address  of  the  twins. 

"  At  this  instant  our  host,  catching  the  eve  of  one  of  the  merchants  on  the 
settee  in  front  of  mine,  approached ;  and  while  advancing,  a  slight  motion  of 
my  hanfl  attracted  his  attention,  and  our  eyes  exchanged  the  first  greeting 
they  had  passed  for  the  night 

"  In  a  few  moments  he  had,  with  that  happy  tact  peculiar  to  educated 
gentlemen,  interchanged  civilities  with  those  whose  glances  had  called  him 
to  the  spot,  and  then  flung  a  quiet  expression  at  me  which  plainly  said.  '  I 
am  at  your  service.' 

"  I  motioned  him  to  a  seat  beside  me,  which  he  at  once  comprehended 


OF    MARION    AND    ILLS    MERRY    MEN.  17 

and  followed,  and  I  then  asked  him  in  a  whisper  the  names  and  positions  or 
the  twins 

"  With  that  gentlemanly  delicacy  which  answers  every  question  without 
the  impertinence  of  demanding  wherefore  it  is  put,  he  replied  that  they 
were  twin  brothers  who  had  arrived  in  Charleston  only  a  few  months  before; 
tluit,  though  attached  to  the  army,  the  governor,  who  was  struck  with  their 
superior  talents,  had  taken  them  to  himself,  and  was  to  a  certain  extent  their 
principal  protector,  that  there  was  also  a  report  that  his  excellency  had 
some  thoughts  of  allying  them  to  his  family  by  giving  his  two  daughters  to 
them  in  marriage. 

"  '  And  their  father?'  said  I. 

"  '  Oh,  they  have  none,'  was  the  reply.  '  He  died  at  home,  that  is  to  say 
in  England,  some  three  years  ago.' 

';  From  this  it  was  evident  my  host  had  not  the  slightest  suspicion  I  de- 
sired this  information  for  any  other  reason  than  to  gratify  a  common  curiosi- 
ty. Taking  heart  from  this,  I  pursued  my  inquiries. 

"  '  They  are  fatherless  then  ?' 

"  Yes,  and  motherless,  too.  Their  mother  died  while  they  were  in  their 
infancy ;  and  her  death  so  afflicted  the  father  that  he  sold  out  his  estate — for 
it  appears  the  brothers  were  born  in  one  of  our  provinces — and  taking  his 
two  only  children  with  him,  returned  to  England.  There  he  educated  his 
sons  for  the  army ;  but  dying  before  they  were  of  age,  the  remainder  of  their 
education  fell  upon  a  guardian,  who  was  a  gentleman  of  position  and  influ- 
ence, and  who  obtainecftfor  them  all  the  opportunities  and  advantages  essen- 
'tial  to  success.  In  case  of  a  war  between  the  provinces  and  the  Kin&  the 
Governor  will  give  them  every  opportunity  to  distinguish  themselves.  Their 
prospects  are  very  brilliant,  I  assure  you." 

"  Doubtless,'  I  answered.     '  what  did  you  say  their  names  were  ?' 

"  '  Frederick  and  George.' 

"  '  And  their  family  name  ?' 

<; '  Somers.  By  the  bye,  that  reminds  me  you  are  namesakes.  Shall  I  in- 
troduce you  ?' 

"  '  No,  I  thank  you,'  I  answered  carelessly.  '  I  have  no  desire  for  an  ac- 
quaintance.' 

"  At  this  moment,  the  eye  of  the  Governor  caught  that  of  the  host,  and 
the  latter  gracefully  moved  away  from  beside  me,  and  passed  down  to  wait 
upon  his  noble  guest. 

"  A  few  minutes  afterward  I  took  my  departure  from  the  house,  and 
bent  my  steps  homeward  with  a  gloomy  and  thoughtful  brow. 

"  It  was  very  evident  that  the  stoiy  of  the  twins  as  related  by  the  host, 
was  the  current  one  in  the  city,  and  was  perhaps  believed  by  the  twin 
brothers,  themselves  :  but  how  nearly  it  approached  the  truth,  you,  Nat,  who 
are  familiar  with  the  real  facts,  can  readily  judge. 

••  I  called,  the  next  day,  upon  the  Governor,  and  obtained  a  private  inter- 
view. Without  compromising  my  own  secret,  or  position,  I  obtained  from 
him  the  history  of  the  twins  as  he  had  obtained  it  from  their  guardian,  who 
obtained  it  from  their  father ;  as  he  had  obtained  it  from  the  brothers  them- 
selves, who  had  obtained  it  from  their  father  in  the  first  place,  and  their  guar- 
dian in  the  second. 

"  The  account  of  the  governor  was  merely  a  repetition  of  the  outlines  re- 
lated to  me  th'preceding  night  at  the  ball. 

"  It  was  self«evident,  then,  that  the  fabrication  of  the  death  of  my  mother, 
the  disposal  of  the  estate,  and 'the  cause  of  his  return  to  England,  was  only 
another  black  leaf  in  the  history  of  my  father. 

"  It  was  also  equally  as  plain  that  he  had  trained  up  the  twin  brothers  in 
utter  ignorance  of  the  existence  of  their  mother,  sister  and  myself,  and  died 
without  making  any  revelation  which  would  convict  him  of  the  fraud  he  had 
3 


jg  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

imposed  upon  their  young  minds,  or  of  the  baseness  and  cruelty  he  had  in- 
flicted upon  their  mother. 

"  I  retired  from  the  cabinet  of  the  Governor  overwhelmed  with  grief,  and 
trembling  with  despair. 

"  On  reaching  my  lodgings,  I  reconsidered,  and  as  calmly  as  my  feelings 
would  permit,  reviewed  the  whole  matter— beginning  with  my  parent's  his- 
tory and  ending  with  the  discovery  and  story  of  my  brothers. 

"  Then  I  formed  three  resolutions ;  the  first  based  upon  political,  the  sec- 
ond and  third  upon  private  reasons. 

"  The  first  was,  that  in  the  storm  arising  between  the  coloijjes  and  the 
crown,  my  brothers  should  not  be  found  with  their  swords  drawn  against 
their  country ;  the  second,  to  reform  their  wicked  dispositons,  prevent  them 
from  following  the  heartless  and  libidinous  career  of  their  father,  and  gradual- 
ly prepare  them  for  a  meeting  and  re-union  with  their  noble  mother  when 
they  should  have  made  themselves  worthy  of  that  high  honor ;  the  third,  to 
keep  the  fact  of  their  existence  and  arrival,  as  well  as  my  father's  death  from 
my  parent." 

The  young  planter  paused.  He  was  pale,  but  evinced  no  other  sign  of 
emotion.  Every  feature  was  resting  tranquilly,  but  lit  with  that  halo  of  re- 
flectiveness which  is  visible  on  the  countenances  of  all  great  minds,  and 
which  tells  that  the  fires  of  their  intellectual  genius  are  never  permitted  to 
die,  because  they  are  subdued  to  a  calm,  steady  and  ever-burning  glow. 

"  How  du  yew  propose  to  du  that,  Neil  ?"  said  %3  scalp  hunter,  who  had 
oeen  surveying  his  companion  for  the  last  half  hour  with  undisguised  aston- 
ishment and  admiration. 

"  Listen,"  replied  Neil.  "  You  remember  the  old  log  house  in  the  centre 
of  the  cypress  wood  ?" 

The  scalp  hunter  inclined  his  head  affimatively,  and  the  planter  continued. 

"I  propose  taking  my  brothers  by  stratagem,  and  conveying  them 
thither.  There  they  will  be  secluded  from  the  world,  its  passions,  its  fas- 
cinations, its  excitements ;  there  they  will  part  one  by  one  with  their  vices 
and  errors,  which  lead  to  misery  and  destruction  ;  there  they  will  take  up 
virtue,  industry  and  justice,  which  lead  to  happiness  and  immortality." 

The  planter's  voice  trembled  as  he  spoke ;  the  muscles  of  his  countenance 
twitched  sharply  with  the  violence  of  his  emotions :  and  a  soft  dew  moist- 
ened the  long,  dark  lashes  of  his  eyes. 

"  Yew  love  'em,  then,  Neil,  after  all !"  exclaimed  the  scalp  hunter,  in  a 
burst  of  surprise,  mingled  with  admiration. 

"  Ah !  are  they  not,  for  all  their  vjpes,  my  brothers  still  ?  Are  they  not, 
for  all  their  father  did,  the  same  bright-eyed  ones  that  played  with  me  in  my 
childhood,  and  for  whom  from  the  hour  of  their  flight  till  that  of  their  re- 
turn, my  mother's  lips  and  mine  have  nightly  prayed  to  God  !" 

"  Your  hand,  Neil !"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  in  a  voice  that  came  up  from 
the  lowest  depths  of  his  soul,  "  your  hand — nay,  both ;  and  your  heart !" 

And  they  fell  on  each  other's  breast,  dropping  their  heads  each  on  the 
other's  shoulder,  and  men  though  they  were,  were  not  ashamed  of  their 


"  Yew'll  du  it,,  Neil!"  cried  the  scalp  hunter,  as  he  partially  recovered  his 
self  possession  ;  "  yew'll  du  it,  for  the  rale  grit  is  in  yew.  Yew've  got 
the  geenis  to  trap  'em,  and  the  will  to  carry  it  out — yew  Ifcv,  and  may  my 
old  Sal  never  drop  anuther  yaller  belly !  ef  I  don't  take  the^calp  off  of  any 
critter  that  attempts  to  step  in  between  yew  and  the  execution  of  your 
will!" 

"  You  will  aid  me  then,  Nat ;  you  approve  of  my  idea,  and  will  help  me  to 
carry  it  into  effect  ?" 

"  Approve  of  it  Neil  ?  It's  one  of  them  ere  idees  that  reconcile  me  to 
hewman  natur ;  as  to  'sistin'  on  yew  in  kerryin  it  thru,  jest  as  long  as  I've 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  19 

got  breath  and  can  lift  old  Sal — -jest  heft  on  her,  will  ye  ;  the  critter  ain't 
much  to  kerry  .'—jest  so  long  yew'll  find  her  and  me  at  your  orders !  But 
tell>is,  when  du  yew  perpose  to  make  a  move  in  the  matter  ?" 

:'  Within  a  fortnight.  Now  that  I  have  your  consent,  Nat,  I  will  at  once 
to  Charleston  and  lay  the  train  for  their  capture." 

-  But  the  old  log  house,  Neil  ?  Wunt  it  take  a  little  time  to  get  it  ready? 
The  house  itself  ain't  exactly  in  condition.  I  hain't  been  there  in  a  year  or 
more,  and  then  it  warnt  enny  tu  kumfortable,  I  tell  yew !" 

The  planter  smiled. 

"  I  had  %eady  thought  of  that,  Nat  A  friend  spent  the  day  up  there 
yesterday,  with  my  negroes  :  and  they  changed  the  appearance  of  it  very 
much  before  they  left,  I  assure  you.  And  even  while  we  speak,  seven  of 
them  are  engaged  in  completing  what  was  left  undone  yesterday,  and  giving 
to  the  house  a  habitable  appearance,  and  to  the  clearing  around  it  an  aspect 
of  cultivation.  Anxious  to  witness  how  Mowizou  was  progressing,  I  put  on 
my  hunting  dress  this  morning,  as  if  going  forth  in  quest  of  game,  and  pro- 
ceeded thither.  Everything  had  met  and  even  exceeded  my  expectations. 
It  was  only  by  a  great  effort  of  my  will  that  I  succeeded  in  restraining  an 
expression  of  joy.  When  I  left  the  spot,  the  negroes  had  not  the  remotest 
idea  that  I  had  not  stumbled  there,  in  the  course  of  my  jaunt,  by  purest 
accident." 

"  The  niggers  are  in  the  secret  then  ?"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  surprise. 

"  No,"  answered  the  planter ;  "  no  one  is  aware  of  it  except  ourselves." 

The  scalp  hunter  appeared  confounded,  and  in  reply  to  his  look  of  inquiry, 
the  planter  said  : 

"  'Twas  thus  I  managed  it.  I  went  to  a  friend  in  the  village,  young  Ned 
Mowizon,  and  told  him  that  a  couple  of  friends  of  mine  wished  to  seclude 
themselves  for  a  time  from  the  world :  that  they  had  dhosen  for  that  purpose 
the  old  log  hut  in  the  cypress  grove,  and  wished  it  cleared  away  and  made 
ready  for  occupation ;  that  I  did  not  desire  to  be  known  in  the  matter,  and 
that  I  wished  him  to  come  to  my  plantation  the  following  day  and  pretend 
in  the  hearing  of  those  around  me  to  employ  my  negroes  for  a  day  or  two  to 
clear  up  some  ground  ;  that  I  wished  him  to  do  this  to  oblige  myself,  and 
to  do  it  without  asking  me  to  explain  anything  further,  and  thus  save  me  the 
mortification  of  betraying  a  secret  which  it  was  highly  necessary  to  keep. 
Mowizon  had  confidence  enough  in  my  honor  to  feel  convinced  that  the 
affair,  though  a  secret,  was  not  a  dishonorable  one,  and  sufficient  desire  to 
accommodate  me  to  at  once  undertake  the  task.  He  agreed,  without  any 
further  questioning  ;  and  thus,  without  compromising  my  secret,  everything 
is  arranged  for  the  reception  of  the  brothers. 

"  I  understand,  Neil.  But  they  will  want  help — fellers  who,  while  they 
know  how  to  make  themselves  useful,  will  take  keer  that  the  critters  don  t 
escape." 

"  All  that  is  provided  for,"  said  the  planter,  with  a  quiet,  yet  melancholy 
smile.  "  All  things  essential  for  their  comfort,  all  things  befitting  men  in  the 
new  life  they  are  to '  enter,  are  already  at  or  on  their  way  to  the  log  house. 
Mowizon  is  provided  with  money  and  a  letter  of  instructions  ;  and  he  is  a  man 
on  whom  I  can  rely,  I  feel  satisfied,  that,  should  it  even  be  necessary  to 
take  the  brothers  there  to-night,  everything  would  be  in  readiness  for  their 
reception."  ' 

"  Yew  hev  geenis  for  every  thing,"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  admiringly. 
••  Taint  every  man  can  du  what  he  has  the  geenis  to  conceive;  but  yew, 
Neil,  yew  air  one  of  the  critters  that  can  du  as  well  talk.  But  what  on  airth 
is  that  feller  down  on  the  road  up  tu  ?  May  my  old  Sal  never  drop  another 
yaller  belly!  ef  he  aint  tearin'  the  meat  off  the  sides  of  his  nag,  as  ef  his 
spurs  was  made  for  scalpin'  knives !  Look  thar' !  see  how  the  darn'd  critters 


20  THE   SWAMP   STEED  J    OR   THE    DAYS 

reel  and  toss  up  their  caps  as  he  pulls  in  the  rein  and  speaks  to  'em !  There's 
some'n  in  it,  or  my  name  aint  Nat  Akarman.  Look !  the  people  are  runnin1 
out  of  their  houses,  affrighted  and  stupified  as  ef  the  day  of  judgment  Jiad 
come !" 

The  planter  strained  his  eyes  down  upon  the  road  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  shore.  It  was  as  the  scalp  hunter  had,  in  his  quaint  manner,  described 
it. 

A  carrier  was  dashing  along  the  road  on  a  bay  courser  with  the  fleet- 
ness  of  a  whirlwind,  as  if  life  were  the  price  of  his  speed,  death  the  cost  of 
.delay ;  halting,  every  now  and  then,  as  he  passed  a  house  or  fieldwhere  faces 
were  seen,  and  after  pronouncing  a  few  words,  which  seemed^?  throw  his 
auditors  into  the  wildest  commotion,  then  again  speeding  ousvard  with  the 
rapidity  of  light. 

"  You  are  right,  Nat,"  said  the  planter,  with,  a  mournful  smile,  as  he  drew 
his  eyes  from  the  scene,  "there  is  something  in  it;  something  that  appeals  to 
you  and  to  me,  as  searchingly  as  to  those  down  yonder.  As  for  me,  though 
I  suspect,  I  yet  would  hear  what  are  the  tidings  yon  courier  brings.  It  may 
be  fancy  only ;  and  yet  I  think  I  know  that  messenger's  face." 

The  sharp,  clear,  glittering  orbs  of  the  woodsman  were  upon  him  in  an  in- 
stant. 

"  Yew  are  right,  Neil,"  he  said ; ' "  and  yet  I  hadn't  an  idee  there  was 
another  pair  of  peepers  besides  mine  in  Sou'  Car  liny  that  could  carry  across  the 
Santee.  I  knowed  the  varmint  at  a  glance,  but  didn't  want  to  say  nuthin, 
cause  I  knowed  his  name  was  wuss  than  red  skin  to  your  ear,  and  I  didn't 
keer  to  see  yew  disturbed.  But  now  you  du  know  it,  the  mischief's  up  and 
can't  be  helped." 

"  Tis  no  matter,"  said  the  planter.  "  Our  day  of  reckoning  is  not  now,  un- 
'less  he  throws  himself  across  my  path;  I  will  not  go  in  search  of  him." 

The  scalp  hunter  surveyed  his  companion  as  if  he  had  not  comprehended 
him. 

"  Understand  me,  Nat,"  said  the  planter,  with  a  majestic  and  impressive 
air.  "  No  man  knows  better  than  myself  what  is  due  to  my  honor.  I  have 
duly  weighed  the  account  that  stands  'twixt  Richard  Winter  and  myself, 
and  this  is  my  decision :  He  is  safe  from  hand  of  mine  till  my  country's  cause 
shall  have  no  further  need  of  Neil  Somers  or  his  sword.  Then,  and  not  till 
then,  shall  I  go  in  quest  of  him.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  shall  vengeance 
awake  from  her  repose.  Then,  and  not  till  then  shall  I  demand  atonement 
for  the  outrage  our  house  has  .suffered  at  his  hands.  Then,  and  not  till  then, 
shall  I  say  to  him — 'Richard  Winter^  life  will  have  life,  blood  will  have  blood, 
death  will  have  death :  I  have  come  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  you  for  destroy- 
ing the  honor,  the  peace  and  the  life  of  my  sister !'  " 

With  these  words,  the  planter  turned  .from  the  ledge  and  the  tree ;  and 
throwing  his  rifle  across  his  shoulder  as  before,  he  bent  his  way  once  again 
through  the  wood,  accompanied  by  the  scalp  hunter,  whose  bowed  head,  pale 
cheeks,  quivering  lips  and  humid  eyes,  told  how  much  he  was  affected  by 
the  mournful  air  of  his  friend,  and  how  truly  he  appreciated  that  pure  and  up- 
right spirit  whose  every  sentiment  was  based  upon  pure  justice  and  clothed 
in  such  supreme  grandeur. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THEY  did  not  exchange  a  word  till  they  had  reached  the  woodsman's  lodce 
when  the  latter  said: 

"  A  moment,  Neil.     I  want  to  take  up  some'n." 

The  planter  paused,  merely  making  a  slight  bow  in  reply ;  and  the  woods- 
man entered  the  lodge. 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  21 

He  returned  ere  long  with  a  bunch  of  stout  thongs  formed  from  the  un- 
dressed ?Vin  of  a  buck. 

"You  have  been  making  a  bridle?"  said  the  planter,  glancing  at  the 
thongs. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  scalp  hunter.  "  Only  I  hev  two  here.  One  on  'em 
I  made,  and  I  s'pose  I  kin  say  I  '  made'  the  other  ;  but  not  in  the  usufl 
way." 

He  paused,  a^if  he  had  something  more  to  say,  but  would  not  utter  it 
then.  • 

Neil  Somers  noticing  this,  forbore,  with  the  delicacy  peculiar  to  an  exalted 
mind,  to  ask  an  explanation  which  the  scalp  hunter,  for  some  private  reasonr 
appeared  to  have  no  disposition  to  volunteer. 

Neither  had  as  yet  spoken  to  the  other  of  the  place  of  his  destination. 
Nor  was  it  necessary.  They  felt  that  they  were  companions,  travelling  the 
same  road  for  the  same  object,  each  intuitively  comprehending  the  other's 
thoughts  of  what  they  were  going  to  hear  and  what  most  likely  to  see  ;  and 
both  knowing  and  feeling  that  what  they  were  about  to  hear  and  see  would 
turn  into  a  rivet  which  would  bind  them  closer  still  together  and  unite  them 
like  a  chain  of  steel  for  many  a  long  day. 

They  struck  out  of  the  clearing  facing  the  lodge  into  the  same  piece  of 
wood  which  the  planter  had  traversed  on  his  route  to  the  scalp  hunter's,  and 
began  slowly  to  descend  the  hill. 

They  had  not  proceeded  more  than  eighty  or  ninety  paces,  when  the 
woodsman,  quietly  signing  to  his  companion  to  follow,  turned  off  to  the  left, 
towards  a  high,  moss-covered  rock,  which  was  faintly  visible  through  the 
trees. 

A  few  moments  brought  them  to  the  spot,  when  a  peculiar  odor  in  the  air 
warned  the  planter  that  he  was  standing  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  concealed 
stable. 

The  woodsman  looked  all  around  him  cautiously  for  a  few  moments  to  see 
if  he  was  perceived  ;  when  satisfied  upon  this  point,  he  quietly  stooped  down 
and  bent  his  ear  to  the  earth.  But,  as  nothing  in  the  shape  of  a  human  form 
had  previously  met  his  eye  ;  so  now,  on  listening,  his  ear  detected  no  foot- 
steps. "With  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  he  then  rose,  and  proceeded  towards  a 
corner  of  the  rock  where  lay,  as  though  it  had  been  wrenched  by  a  tornado 
from  its  native  tree  and  thrown  down  where  it  stood,  the  long-branching 


arm  of  a  scyamore,  its  leaves  yellow  and  warped  by  the  sun  and  decay. 

This  the  woodsman  drew  sh'ghtly  aside  ;  then  removing  a  long,  wide  bark 
which  it  covered,  exposed  to  the  somewhat  astonished  eyes  of  the  planter, 
the  mouth  of  a  dark  cave,  with  a  natural  and  gradual  sloping  descent  ter- 
minating at  a  depth  of  about  five  feet  below  tmP  level  of  the  earth  around 
the  rock,  and  leading  to  the  planter  could  not  guess  where. 

"This,  Neil,"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  with  a  quiet  smile,  "is  my  stable  and 
the  hidin'  place  of  my  ch'ice  things. 

Here  I  keep  the  powder  and  lead  which  I  gather  up  from  the  yaller  bellies 
wnenever  a  bark  from  old  Sal  sends  'em  skootin'  up  to  glory.  Here  I  keep 
my  horses,  and  all  the  other  spiles  which  I  take  from  the  red  skins.  They're 
parfectly  safe  from  the  horse  thieves  ;  and.  ceptin'  us  two,  the  place  aint 
known  to  a  livin'  soul  Wait  a  minit  —  I  didn't  bring  yew  here  for  nuthin'  !w 

So  saying,  the  woodsman  slowly  entered  the  cave,  and  disappeared. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  planter  heard  his  voice  ringing  in  the  cave,  and  utter- 
ing, at  intervals  — 

"  Be  still,  will  yew,  now  !  That's  it  —  that's  it,  now  !  Is  the  critter  glad  to 
see  her  old  Natty  back  agin!«  Ha!  ha!  ha!  thats'  right,  old  gal,  —  put  your 
head  thar'  !  Hold  still  a  leetle,  for  Natty's  come  to  take  her  out  on  a  rip  I 
Ho  !  ho  I  she  likes  it,  does  she  ?  I  thought  so,  old  gal—  I  thought,  so  !  Now, 


• 


22  THE    SWAMP    STEED  j    OR    THE    DAYS 

come  along— that's  it— so,  so— here  we  are— aint  she  a  bewtee  now!  Now, 
then— gently  old  gal,  gently;  there's  no  knowin'  who  may  be  about ! 

The  next  moment  there  appeared  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  with  a  thong 
bridle  hanging  from  its  neck,  a  long,  lank,  dingy,  cream-colored  mare,  whose 
general  appearance  was  so  wretched  and  wo-begone.  that  it  seemed  as  if 
she  suspected  her  owner  had  discovered  her  old,  worn-out  and  valueless,  and 
turned  her  out  to  die. 

The  animal  was,  however,  neither  wretched  in  her  movements  nor  berei 
of  intelligence.  In  compliance  with  the  order  of  her  master,  she  crept  up 
the  sloping  path  with  the  quietness  of  a  fox :  and  on  reaching  the  level  of 
the  brushwood,  moved  off  quietly  towards  the  farther  side  of  the  rock,  when 
she  as  quietly  turned,  and  standing  stock  still,  threw  her  eyes  intelligently 
around  as  if  to  take  in  a  clear  view  of  everything  and  every  body  about 
her,  dropped  them  quietly  an  instant  or  two  upon  the  planter,  and  then  fixed 
them  expectantly  upon  the  entrance  of  the  cave,  where  stood  the  woodsman 
smiling  his  approbation  at  the  correctness  with  which  she  had  followed  his 
order. 

The  intelligent  animal  seemed  to  understand  that  her  effort  was  appre- 
ciated :  and  was  so  pleased  with  her  master's  applause,  that  she  displayed  her 
teeth,  tossed  up  her  head,  drew  herself  up.  and  raising  one  of  her  fore  feet 
quietly  pawed  the  air,  and  then  let  it  drop,  without  making  as  much  noise  as 
would  alarm  a  mosquito. 

The  woodsman  shrugged  his  shoulders  admiringly,  and  making  her  a  sign 
to  be  motionless  till  his  return,  retreated  again  into  the  cave. 

He  had  been  gone  but  a  few  minutes,  when  he  re-appeared,  holding 
by  the  bridle  a  young,  coal-black  charger,  whose  fierce,  restless  spirit,  as  it 
came  rushing  up  the  slope,  seemed  to  disdain  the  meddling  bit,  which  it 
champed  indignantly  ;  and  to  regard  'with  scorn  the  strength  and  towering 
form  of  the  woodsman,  whom  it  threatened  every  moment  to  break  from, 
and  then  dash  in  pieces. 

The  planter  could  scarcely  restrain  a  burst  of  admiration  at  sight  of  the 
magnificent  animal. 

The  restless  movements  of  the  noble  steed,  as  it  reared  and  plunged, 
in  its  efforts  to  shake  off  the  powerful  hold  of  the  woodsman,  would  not 
permit  the  planter  to  take  a  deliberate  view  of  its  points.  He  could  only 
catch  momentary  glimpses  of  its  two  small  ears,  shaped  like  spear  points  ,  of 
its  large,  clear  black  eyes  flashing  indignant  lightnings  ;  of  its  bold,  broad 
nostrils,  red  as  blood,  and  throwing  forth  a  fierce,  hot  breath  glowing  like 
the  light  rays  of  the  sun  as  it  streams  through  the  windows  of  a  building  ; 
of  its  high,  arching  neck,  fringed  with  a  deep,  flowing  mane,  that  tossed  with 
its  every  movement  like  at  slight  rolling  billow  ;  of  its  deep,  broad  chest,  that 
seemed  as  if  about  to  burst  with  indignant  "wrath  ;  of  its  small,  .tapering 
limbs,  on  which  the  full  charged  veins  shone  like  rods  of  steel  ;  and  of  its 
long,  switch  tail  that  swept  the  air  like  a  fan.  Its  skin  of  a  glossy,  spot- 
less black,  shone  with  every  rear  and  plunge,  like  a  flash  of  light,  and  spoke 
of  youth,  vigor  and  health,  as  well  as  of  pure  and  noble  blood. 

"  Aint  he  a  proud  critter,  Neil?"  cried  the  scalp  hunter,  with  a  light  laugh, 
as  he  strove  to  bring  the  animal  to  a  stand  ;  "  wouldn't 'yew  think  now,  by 
his  leapin'  and  tearin,'  and  his  capers,  to  crush  me  under  his  hoofs,  that  he 
was  King  G-eorge  himself  strugglin'  to  trample  down  the  people  ?  And  yet 
the  varmint  was  raised  among  the  cussed  yaller  bellies,  and  aint  got  no 
more  right  'to  treat  a  decent  'feller  in  this  way  than  a  rattle  snake  has  to 
throw  his  pizen  at  a  white  man  !" 

"  Where  did  you  obtain  him.  Nat  ?"  said  the  planter. 

"  Out  on  the  borders,  one  day,  when  huntin'  scalps.  I'd  got  into  a  swamp 
and  was  lookin'  out  for  a  fresh  trail,  when  I  suddenly  stumbled  on  about  a 
a  dozen  of  the  varmint,  camped  in  the  grass.  'Fore  they  knowed  where 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  23 

they  was,  old  Sal  guv  a  bark,  and  one  of  the  varmint  made  a  spring  as 
ef  he  intended  to  jump  right  thru  to  heving  ;  then  clubbin'  the  old  critter 
I  pitched  right  in  among  'em,  and  sogged  em  so,  that  they  hadn't  time  to 
ketch  their  wits.  Only  five  on  'em  showed .  grit,  but  old  Sal's  butt  end 
crunched  'em  quicker  'n  chain  lightnin',  and  they  caved  in  like  so  many  rotten 
sheep.  There  warn't  then  only  one  varmint  left,  but  he  was  mounted  on 
'bout  the  'tarnalest  piece  of  horse  meat  yew  ever  heerd  on.  Ef  old  Sal  had 
been  charged  and  rammed  down,  I  wouldn't  a  keerd  ;  but  she  warn't ;  and 
the  first  glimpse  I  had  of  the  sarpint  was,  as  he  was  standin'  on  the  hoss's 
back,  and  takin'  a  deliberate  aim  with  his  rifle  at  my  head.  I  was  kind  a 
skeery  jest  at  that  minit ;  but  bein'  as  I  didn't  feel  as  ef  I  wanted  to  shallow 
lead,  I  dropped  quicker  'n  chain  lightnin',  and  jest  at  that  ms'nt  I  heerd  the 
bullet  a  whizzen  past  as  ef  it  thought  it  had  hit  somebody.  The  cunnin  var- 
mint hadn't  no  idee  of-  givin'  a  feller  time  to  load,  but  findin'  his  lead  hadn't 
done  no  harm,  drove  right  up  with  the  notion  of  tramplin  and  clubbin'  me  on 
the  head,  afore  I  had  time  to  git  up.  But  I'd  been  raised  'mong  folks  who'd 
font  Ingen  afore  then  ;  and  so,  on  droppin',  I  crawled  quicker  'n  a  painter 
thru  the  grass,  and  when  the  varmint  had  got  to  the  spot  where  he'd  seen 
me  fall,  I  wasn't  thar !  Old  Sal  was  greased  and  rammed  down  in  no  time, 
and  then  I  lifted  myself  up  a  little  sly,  and  cuss  me,  ef  the  yaller  belly 
wasn't  a  dodgin'  round  in  a  circle,  on  that  'tarnal  boss  of  his'n,  his  eyes  ruu- 
nin'  every  where,  and  his  rifle  clubbed  and  ready  to  split  at  a  moment's 
warnin'.  He  didn't  see  me  till  I  yelled,  but  as  his  eyes  fell  on  me,  old  Sal 
barked,  and  he  dropped  from  the  back  of  his  steed  as  ef  lightnin'  had  touched 
him.  And  then  I  heerd  a  screech— it  warn't  nuthin'  like  a  nat'ral  whinney, 
from  the  hoss,  as  ef  the  death  of  the  varmint  had  touched  its  vitals.  I  said 
nuthin' !  but  out  with  my  knife  and  whittled  off  the  scalps ;  but  when  I 
went  up  to  take  that  of  the  hoss's  rider,  yew  oughter  seed  it.  The  critter 
yelled  wuss  'n  a  painter ;  it  reared  and  plunged  around  the  body,  and 
wouldn't  let  a  feller  come  near  it  at  any  price.  I  didn't  want  to  kill, the  ani- 
mal, and  I  did  want  the  scalp ;  and  as  matters  looked,  to  git  the  one  I  should 
hev  to  du  the  other.  The  case  puzzled  me.  Thinks  I,  111  wait  So  I  pre- 
tends to  move  away,  but  on  goin'  a  little  distance  I  dropped  down  in  the 
grass,  and  laid  still,  tu  see  what  the  critter  would  du.  In  a  little  while  I 
crawled  keerfully  towards  the  red  skin,  and  there  I  seed  the  animal  sprawlin' 
down  by  his  body,  kissin'  the  face,  and  moanin'  as  ef  its  heart  was  broke. 
Thinks  I,  I  wunt  hurt  that  critter's  feelins  by  takin  his  master's  scalp,  but  I'll 
jest  snake  him,  and  take  him  hum.  By  and  bye,  the  critter's  dreadful  suffer- 
ins  threw  him  into  a  sleep  :  and  then  I  crept  along  on  all  fours  till  one  spring 
brought  the  bridle  in  my  hand  and  me  upon  his  back  In  a  moment,  the 
critter  woke,i  as  ef  he  couldn't  believe  himself ;  then  starting  up,  he  raised 
on  his  hind  legs  as  ef  he  thought  he  could  land  me  ;  then  he  pitched  forward 
on  a  flyin'  run  for  nigh  on  to  about  thirty  yards,  and  then  dropped  sudden 
as  lightnin' :  but  he  didn't  du  it,  and  findin  that  trick  warn't  likely  to 
answer,  he  tried  all  sorts  of  rairin'  and  plungin'  to  'complish  it.  But  it  warn't 
no  mortil  use !  I  was  as  perfectly  to  hum  on  his  back,  as  ef  I  had  been 
asleep  on  bar  skins ;  and  when  the  critter  seed  that,  he  guv  in,  and  pickin  up 
the  spiles  from  the  varmint  I  had  scalped,  I  rlruv  him  hum  and  put  him  in 
the  stable  here.  I  aint  had  him  out  more'n  once  or  twice  since  :  but  he 
und'stands  me  well  enough,  for  all  his  airs  now,  to  know  that  he  couldn't  tosg 
me,  ef  he  is  a  tairer." 

This  sketch  of  the  gallant  steed  was  told  by  fits  and  jerks,  as  the  scalp 
hunter  strove  to  bring  him  to  a  stand ;  and  not  in  the  rapid  and  connected 
manner  we  have  related  it, 

It  was  only  when  the  woodsman  had  brought  the  anecdote  to  a  close,  that 
the  horse  ceased  Jo  struggle,  and  to  champ  his  bits  calmly. 

"  Neil,"  continued  the  scalp  hunter.  "  I  want  yew  to  take  this  critter  and 


24  ~H"£    SWAMP    STEED  :    OK    THE    DAYS 

keep  him  •  and  I  don't  want  yew  to  refuse  nuthcr—  ef  you  du  I  shall  feel 
hurt  'Taint  every  man  'that  I'd  give  such  an  animal  to  :  but  you  are  to 
me  like  a  brother,  and  I  know  yew'll  take  keer  of  the  critter  for  the  sake  of 


. 

This  was  one  of  those  situations  in  which  it  would  have  been  cruel  to  de- 
cline, and  Neil,  with  a  bow  expressive  of  his  feelings,  sprang  upon  the  back 
of  the  gallant  steed,  and  taking  the  rein  in  one  hand,  patted  the  animal  gentiy 
on  the  neck  with  the  other,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  pair  appeared  to  be 
the  best  friends  in  the  world. 

The  woodsman  re-covered  the  mouth  of  the  cave  with  the  bark  screen  ; 
returned  the  sycamore  arm  to  its  former  position  ;  and  then  advanced  to- 
wards (his  cream  colored  mare,  whose  sleepy  looking  eyes  expanded  and 
beamed  with  pleasure  as  he  approached,  and  who  crouched  down  so  as  to 
permit  him  to  mount  without  the  slightest  inconvenience. 

The  woodsman  patted  her  fondly  on  the  neck  : 

"  Ah,  yew  are  a  fine  old  gal,  Nell  !  Now,  gently,  Nell  —  gently,  old  gal, 
and  teach  that  young  swamp  steed  a  lesson  how  to  take  his  rider  through 
the  brush  without  teUin'  tales." 

The  old  lady  thus  flattered,  felt  herself  upon  her  metal  ;  and,  as  if  com- 
prehending every  word  of  her  master,  glided  through  the  wood  with  a  ra- 
pidity and  quietness  that  would  have  astonished  any  one  but  an  experienced 
denizen  of  the  wild  woods. 

But,  if  Nell  was  an  adept  at  this  business,  the  gallant  young  swamp  steed 
was  not  exactly  an  amateur.  His  steps  were  quicker,  but  his  footfalls  not  less 
light  than  the  old  lady's  ;  and  he  carried  himself  and  rider  through  the  tor- 
tuous windings  of  the  wood  with  a  speed  and  cautiousness  that  told  nobly  for 
his  Indian  education. 

When  they  had  reached  the  bottom  of  the  hill  and  entered  upon  the  level 
highway  leading  to  the  river  side,  the  young  steed  carried  himself  with  a 
swaggering  independence  which  informed  the  cream-colored  lady  that  he 
didn  t  think  she  had  taught  him  such  a  great  deal,  after  all 

Here  the  parties  took  the  ferry  boat  which  plied  at  this  point  between  the 
two  shores,  and  were  transported,  after  some  delay,  to  the  other  side  of  the 
river. 

It  was  late  when  they  reached  the  opposite  shore,  and  the  two  friends  found 
it  necessary  to  give  then-  animals  a  free  rein,  if  they  desired  to  reach  the 
house  of  the  planter  in  anything  like  season  for  repose. 

The  mare  was  slender,  long^limbed  and  fleet  as  a  racer.  Her  movements 
were  light,  easy  and  supple,  and  she  sped  over  the  road  with  a  grace,  confi- 
dence and  swiftness  which  caused  the  eye  of  her  rider  to  sparkle  with  admi- 
ration and  pride.  The  animal  evidently  felt  that  her  reputation,  as  a  courser 
was  at  stake,  and  threw  herself  out  as  if  conscious  of  her  ability  to  main- 
tain it 

The  swamp  steed  appeared  to  be  conscious  that  his  reputation  as  a  gallant 
animal  was  yet  to  be  achieved,  but  felt  equally  as  confident  that  he  possessed 
the  bottom  to  obtain  it  He  tossed  his  small,  princely  head  with  a  proud, 
defiant  air  ;  threw  a  scornful  glance  at  the  cream-colored  lady  at  his  side, 
opened  his  mouth  and  nostrils  as  if  to  imbibe  a  long  draught  of  air  ;  stretched 
his  limbs  an  instant  as  if  to  call  up  all  his  elasticity  and  nerve,  then  sprang 
forward  and  shot  along  the  road  like  an  arrow. 

_  From  that  moment,  the  farm  houses,  fences  and  trees  skirting  the  way 
sides  appeared  to  the  riders  like  a  moving  panorama.  The  coursers  did  not 
run  —  they  flew.  The  uneven  high  road  was  no  longer  an  undulating  path- 
way, but  a  rolling  sea.  and  the  coursers,  ships  skimming  over  the  breakers  ; 
now  lost  for  an  instant  in  the  hollow,  oscillating  cradles,  the  next  appearing 
upon  the  summits  of  the  billows,  and  then  speeding  onward  with  a  rapidity 
that  threatened  death  to  everything  that  might  be  in  their  path. 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  26 

Riding  in  this  manner,  they  reached  the  planter's  house  in  a  few  hours, 
when  weary  and  exhausted,  they  threw  themselves  from  their  horses  and 
sought  in  slumber  to  recruit  their  energies  to  encounter  the  dangers  and  ex- 
citements which  their  hearts  forewarned  them  would  confront  them  on  the 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE  morning  of  the  following  day  opened  with  a  thick  impenetrable  mist, 
which  hung  like  a  gray  shroud  over  the  hills  and  valleys — fit  emblem  of  the 
gloom  that  overshadowed  the  hearts  of  the  people :  and  a  type  of  the  destiny 
of  the  colonies,  which  was  at  that  period  vague,  mournful,  and  threatening. 

By  eight  o'clock,  however,  the  fog  rose  slowly  from  the  earth  till  it  was 
high  above  the  hills ;  the  sun  launched  its  golden  streams  through  the  rapidly 
melting  clouds,  clothing  them  with  its  glittering  light,  and  bathing  the  woods 
and  fields  in  the  bright  yellow  of  its  radiant  glow. 

The  emerald  fields,  the  slopes  far  up  the  Hill  sides,  sparkled  with  the  glit- 
tering dew  drops  that  lingered  upon  their  blades ;  the  bubbling  brooks,  the 
creeping  rivulets,  and  the  running  streams,  shone  like  lakes  of  molten  silver ; 
the  air  was  perfumed  with  the  balmy  odors  of  clover,  sweet-brier,  wild  flow- 
ers and  thyme ;  from  copse  and  wood  the  feathered  songsters  chanted  an- 
thems of  praise  and  joy  in  voices  of  rich  melody :  all  nature  was  clothed  in 
the  bright  garments  of  a  bride. 

Man  alone  wore  a  brow  of  gloom.  With  him  the  sunlight  was  not  a  stream 
of  gold,  but  a  lake  of  iron,  forging  itself  into  chains ;  with  him  the  green 
fields  were  not  objects  of  beauty  to  which  he  was  to  look  for  bread,  but 
cemeteries  in  one  of  which  he  was  soon  to  find  a  grave ;  with  him,  the  laugh- 
ing brooks,  the  murmuring  rivulets  and  dashing  streams  were  but  tears  that 
he  and  his  had  shed ;  the  songs  of  birds  were  not  hymns  of  praise,  but  dirges 
of  mourning. 

The  roads  that  branched  off  from  Kingstree,  the  county  town  of  the  Dis- 
trict of  Williamsburgh,  presented  on  the  morning  in  question  a  picturesque 
and  stirring  sight. 

Men  on  horseback  and  on  foot,  variously  armed  with  rifles,  guns,  pitch- 
forks and  axes,  were  seen  hurrying  along  towards  Kingstree ;  scarcely  utter- 
ing a  word  as  they  proceeded,  and  all  with  scowling  brows,  pale  cheeks, 
clenched  hands,  and  quivering  nostrils ;  all  bent  upon  some  errand,  judging 
by  their  excited  air  and  manner,  which  liad  for  each  and  all  a  terrible  in- 
terest. 

By  nine  o'clock,  the  town  of  Kingstree  was  alive  with  men  like  these. 
Every  brow,  whatever  its  rank  in  the  social  scale,  whatever  its  age  on  the 
scroll  of  time,  wore  a  fierce  and  thoughtful  look ;  men  congregated  here  and 
there  in  knots  of  twos  and  threes  and  tens,  and  listened  with  varied  feelings 
to  some  one  in  their  midst  from  whose  lips  could  every  now  and  then  be 
heard  the  words — "Lexington,  19th  April — without  warning — people  in 
arms — cold  blood!"  And  these  words  were  cabalistic;  and  cheeks  around 
the  speaker  paled ;  lips  were  closed  and  drawn  back  against  the  teeth,  till 
they  all  but  forced  the  latter  in ;  nostrils  quivered ;  breathings  grew  hot  and 
quick;  eyes  flashed  lightnings;  brows  waxed  blacker;  and  hands  grasped 
firmer  such  weapons  as  they  held. 

They  were  in  all  guises,  too,  these  men ;  the  broadcloth  of  the  planter,  the 

homespun  of  the  farmer,  the  make  shift  of  the  laborer,  and  the  buckskin  of 

the  borderer ;  all  mingling  together,  yet  scarcely  speakuag ;  each  retaining  his 

own  purpose  and  opinion,  while  he  asked  without  obtaining  those  of  his  neigh- 

4 


26  THE.  SWAMP    STEED  J    OR   THE    DAYS 

bor ;  all  laboring  under  a  most  intense  excitement,  and  ever  and  anon  turn- 
ing a  glance  up  towards  the  town  hall,  in  front  of  which  were  drawn  up,  in 
lines  facing  each  other,  twenty-four  mounted  troops,  who  had  that  morning 
escorted  into  town  three  royal  officers,  who  were  then  in  earnest  conference 
within  the  building. 

The  crowd  continued  to  receive  fresh  accessions  as  the  morning  wore  along, 
and  the  large  green  facing  the  town  hall  began  to  present  a  somewhat  threa- 
tening aspect. 

As  yet,  however,  everything  was  vague  and  unsatisfactory.  Although  it 
was  a  generally  understood  fact  that  every  body  had  heard  the  rumor,  yet  no 
one  could  trace  it  to  any  reliable  source.  True,  the  arrival  of  the  three  royal 
officers  and  their  twenty-four  troops  on  that  morning,  and  that  of  Richard 
"Winter  the  night  before,  were  significant ;  but  the  latter  had  not  shown  them- 
selves to  the  people ;  the  sheriff  had  made  no  proclamation ;  and  as  to  Richard 
Winter,  his  character  was  bad  and  the  crowd  knew  not  what  amount  of 
credit  to  place  in  his  statements. 

And  yet  it  was  easy  to  perceive,  by  the  restless,  gloomy  and  threatening 
brows  of  the  concourse  that  they  believed,  indefinite  and  thus  far  unsupport- 
ed as  was  the  report,  implicitly  in  the  startling  rumor  they  had  heard,  and 
were  prepared  to  act  upon  it  the  moment  it  assumed  the  shape  of  certainty. 

Still  they  would  wait,  and  do  nothing  prematurely,  till  the  intelligence 
came  to  them  in  such  a  manner  that  there  could  no  longer  lie  any  room  on  which 
to  hang  a  doubt ; — thus  spoke  the  prudent.  It  was  dangerous  to  take  a  step 
which  might,  after  all,  be  based  upon  a  false  rumor — rumor  does  so  much  to 
mislead  men,  and  bring  them  to  ruin  and  sorrow ;  thus  spoke  the  very 
cautious.  It  could  not  be  possible  that  the  crown  would  care  so  little  for  the 
people  as  to  hew  them  down  as  reported ;  there  was  no  use  in  rushing  on  to 
danger  without  knowing  what  for ; — thus  spoke  the  timid.  If  the  King  has 
dared  to  do  this  thing,  WO^D  him — wo!  oh,  if  we  could  but  learn  something 
reliable  !  Thus  spoke  the  true  and  brave.  And  all  united  in  waiting  for  in- 
telligence from  a  trustworthy  channel. 

At  length  a  horseman  was  seen  in  full  gallop  on  the  Georgetown  road,  and 
approaching  the  village  at  full  speed.  He  had  scarcely  made  his  appearance, 
when  another  came  in  sight.  Both  were  well  mounted,  and  rode  their  horses 
like  men  familiar  with  the  saddle. 

As  they  neared  the  town,  they  raised  their  hats  as  a  signal  that  they  were 
armed  with  news  of  a  serious  import,  on  perceiving  which,  such  of  the  throng 
as  were  on  horseback,  dashed  off  from  the  green  to  meet  them. 

Among  the  latter,  were  our  two  friends,  Neil  Somers  and  the  hardy  woods- 
man. 

As  the  planter  came  up  with  the  advancing  horseman,  he  recognized  in 
him  a  gentleman  with  whom  he  had  formed  an  intimate  acquaintance  in 
Charleston. 

The  recognition  was  mutual ;  and  after  a  warm  but  hasty  salutation  on  both 
sides,  Neil  Somers  reined  up  his  horse  beside  that  of  the  new  comer,  with 
whom  he  entered  into  a  terse  and  rapid  conversation. 

The  effect  of  the  stranger's  discourse  upon  the  planter  was  magical  The 
blood  slowly  receded  from  his  countenance :  his  brow  gathered  into  a  gloomy 
frown ;  his  eyes  became  half  closed  and  flashed  sparks  of  indignant  fire ; 
his  nostrils  swelled  and  quivered ;  the  muscles  around  his  mouth  twitched  as 
if  contending  with  some  electric  power ;  his  lips  closed  in  against  his  teeth 
as  if  striving ''to  drive  them  from  their  gums;  his  whole  frame  shook  with  a 
convulsive  tremor. 

But  this  was  only  temporary.  In  a  few  minutes,  by  a  violent  effort  of  his 
will,  the  planter  threw  off  these  visible  signs  of  agitation.  His  face  became 
flushed,  his  brow  unruffled,  his  eyes  expanded,  his  nostrils  calm,  his  muscles 
tranquil,  and  his  frame  composed. 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  27 

"Now,"  said  the  stranger  to  him  in  a  low  voice,  "now,  Somers,  that  you 
know  all,  tell  it  to  these  men  upon  the  green,  in  your  own  peculiar  style. 
Speak  to  them,  as  you  alone  know  how  to  speak ; — appeal  to  their  heads  and 
hearts — and  leave  the  rest  to  Him !" 

The  voice  of  the  stranger  was  calm  but  impressive ;  and  his  general  air 
that  of  one  who  understood  mankind  and  himself.  As  he  finished  speaking, 
the  planter  grasped  his  hand,  pressed  it,  and  exclaimed — 

"  I  will,  Marion,  I  will.  I'll  speak  to  them  in  the  name  of  God  and  hu- 
manity !" 

The  stranger  returned  the  pressure,  and  they  rode  forward  in  silence  to  the 
green. 

As  they  approached,  all  eyes  were  bent  upon  them  ;  and 

"'Tis  Marion,  the  Hero  of  the  Forlorn  Hope  at  the  batttle  of  Btchoel" 
whispered  one,  flinging  a  quiet  glance  at  the  stranger. 

"  'Tis  Marion,  the  Friend  of  the  People,"  said  another. 

"Tis  Marion,  the  rice  planter  of  St.  John's,"  cried  a  third. 

'  'Tis  Marion,  the  Protector  of  the  Borders,"  added  a  fifth. 

''Tis  Marion,  the  Thinker,"  said  a  sixth. 

'  'Tis  Marion,  the  Fearless,"  said  another. 

'  'Tis  Marion,  the  True,"  added  an  eighth. 

'  Wherever  he  goes,  there  I  will  go,"  said  one. 

'  If  he  sides  with  the  king,  then  the  king  must  be  right,  and  I  will  side 
with  him  also,"  murmured  another. 

"Marion  sides  only  with  the  cause  of  right  and  truth,"  returned  his  neigh- 
bor ;  "  and  the  side  he  takes,  that  side  will  be  mine." 

"  Hush !"  whispered  all.  "  We  are  going  to  hear  it,  now.  Marion  and 
young  Somers  are  on  the  stand." 

"  Somers  and  Marion,  are  two  of  the  bpst  men  in  the  colony,"  whispered 
a  middle  aged  farmer  to  another  at  his  elbow  ;  "»hat  they  say,  we  can  rely 
on." 

"  There's  big  Nat,  the  scalp  hunter !"  muttered  one.  "  You  might  be  sure 
he'd  be  on  hand  when  there's  blows  to  be  had  and  given.  He's  a 
trump !" 

"Who's  that  with  him?"  asked  a  settler  at  his  side. 

"  That's  Pete  Horry,  who  fout  the  red  skins  so  stout  at  the  battle  of 
Etchoe.  There's  grit  in  him,  I  tell  you!" 

"Hush — Marion  and  young  Somers  are  whispering!" 

"  We'll  have  it  soon !" 

"  Yes,  it's  comin'  now.     Young  Somers  is  goin'  to  speak !" 

The  platform  was  a  hastily  constructed  affair,  consisting  of  a  few  rough 
boards  laid  across  the  tops  of  a  couple  of  market  wagons  resting  in  the 
shadow  of  a  large  tree  which  rose  in  the  middle  of  the  green. 

In  the  centre  of  this  staging  Somers  now  appeared,  standing  beside 
the  personage  who  was  so  readily  recognized  by  the  crowd.  The  sides,  and 
in  fact  every  part  of  the  platform,  was  crowded  with  young  and  full  grown 
individuals,  who  had  hastily  clambered  up  and  seated  themselves  the  moment 
it  was  known  that  it  was  to  be  occupied  as  a  rostrum  from  which  to  address 
the  multitude. 

On  the  right  of  the  stand,  on  the  back  of  his  favorite  mare,  with  his  long 
rifle  lying  across  the  saddle  before  him,  rose  the  gigantic  form  of  Nat  the 
woodsman  ;  his  bronzed  face  turned  with  eager  attention  towards  the  centre 
of  the  platform,  and  his  large  dare-devil  eyes  wandering  alternately  from  the 
face  of  the  planter  to  that  of  the  gentleman  from  St.  John's,  with  nervous 
anxiety.  Beside  him,  and  on  horseback,  was  the  second  horseman,  whom 
many  of  the  crowd  had  already  recognized  as  a  good  man  and  true,  and 
called  by  the  name  of  Horry 

Around  the  platform,  and  nearly  covering  the  entire  face  of  the  green, 


28  THE   SWAMP   STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

stood  a  vast  multitude,  consisting  of  backwoodsmen,  farmers,  planters,  plough- 
men, laborers,  storekeepers,  and  craftsmen  of  every  kind  ;  all  more  or  less 
armed  with  offensive  weapons,  and  all  presenting  one  of  those  heterogenous 
crowds  visible  only  on  critical  occasions,  or  when  States  are  in  danger. 

Prom  the  windows  of  almost  every  h»use  surrounding  the  green,  female 
heads  of  all  ages  and  colors,  might  be  seen  looking  forth ;  some  glancing 
ing  over  the  multitude :  others  straining  their  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the 
platform,  and  striving  with  all  their  might  to  catch  the  outlines  of  the  two 
countenances  on  whom  the  gaze  of  the  vast  throng  was  fixed. 

The  limbs  of  the  large  tree  in  the  centre  of  the  green  were  filled  with  a 
score  or  more  of  men  and  lads,  looking  down  with  anxious  interest  at  the 
parties  on  the  platform ;  while,  grasping  the  slightly  leaning  trunk,  might  be 
seen  numbers  of  others,  eagerly  and  actively  working  their  way  up  to  perch 
themselves  upon  the  branches  ;  from  whence  they  could  look  down  and 
hear  all  that  was  said,  and  observe  all  that  was  going  on. 

At  length  the  gentleman  from  St.  John's  waved  his  hand  as  a  signal  that 
his  companion  was  about  to  speak.  In  a  moment  the  loud  murmur  formed 
by  the  united  whisperings  and  mutterings  of  the  throng  ceased,  and  all  eyes 
were  directed  at  the  planter. 

"  Men  of  Carolina,"  he  began,  in  a  voice  that  fell  on  then-  ears  like  the 
clear,  bold  voice  of  a  clarion,  "  the  hour  has  come  when  we  must  shake  off 
forever  the  cloud  which  has  been  hovering  over  our  colonies,  and  look  for  a 
purer  sky  ;  the  hour  when  we  must  throw  off  the  garments  of  bondage,  and 
put  on  the  robes  of  freemen  ;  the  hour  when  we  must  cease  to  kiss  the  hand 
that  smites  us,  and  holding  up  our  heads,  return  the  blow  ;  the  hour  when 
we  must  no  longer  speak  to  tyranny  by  soft  petitions  and  cold  words,  but  by 
loud  cries  and  hot  blood  ;  the  hour  when  we  must  no  longer  welcome  the 
minions  Of  oppression,  bu^-epel  and  drive  them  back  ;  the  hour  when  we 
must  rise,  as  one  man,  in  me  name  of  that  God  in  whom  alone  we  can  trust, 
and  hi  the  name  of  that  suffering  humanity  of  which  we  are  a  part,  and  re- 
nounce forever  the  name  of  Englishmen,  and  take  up  that  of  Americans — for 
0,  men  of  Carolina,  the  royal  cannon  has  been  loaded  and  discharged, 
the  royal  muskets  have  been  levelled  and  their  triggers  pulled,  the  royal 
sword  has  been  lifted  and  brought  down,  and  hundreds  of  our  brethren 
butchered  in  blood ! 

"  Do  you  hear  it,  men  of  the  borders  and  the  wilderness,  and  not  grasp 
your  rifles  and  your  knives  ?  Do  you  hear  it,  tillers  of  the  field,  and  not 
catch  up  your  sickles  and  your  scythes  ?  Do  you  hear  it,  smiths  and  howers 
and  not  seize  your  axes  and  your  bars  ?  Do  you  hear  it,  dealers  in  merchan- 
dize, and  not  exchange  your  wares  for  muskets  and  for  pikes  ?  Do  you  hear 
it,  men  of  law,  and  flee  not  from  your  fields  of  words  to  fields  of  gallant 
deeds  ?  Do  you  hear  it,  men  of  the  pulpit,  and  will  ye  preach  to  men  of 
peace  ?  Do  you  hear  it,  0  men  of  Carolina,  and  will  ye  hearken  to  it  tamely  ? 
The  king  has  shot  your  brethren  clown — blood  has  been  shed ! 

"  This  man  upon  the  throne— whose  heart  shrinks  at  nothing,  however  in- 
famous or  black ;  this  wearer  of  the  ermin— who  sees  in  the  sceptre  merely 
a  rod  with  which  to  scourge  the  people ;  this  heartless  king— whose  soul 
delights  in  cruelty,  and  who  washes  his  hands  in  tears  wrung  from  a  suffer- 
ing nation ;  this  possessor  of  the  crown— great  only  in  tyranny,  wise  only 
m  wickedness,  accomplished  only  in  barbarity,  industrious  only  in  edicts 
which  beggar  while  they  madden  the  masses,  and  generous  only  to  parasites 
who  applaud  and  minister  to  his  vices,  and  to  tools  who  alone  uphold  his 
brutal  fcone;  this  bad  man,  I  hereby  arraign  at  the  bar  of  public  opinion 
denounce  him  as  a  brute,  a  tyrant  and  a  murderer,  and  call  upon  you  0  me 
of  Carolina,  to  join  with  me  in  sundering  forever  the  chains  he  has  flune 
around  us,  in  renouncing  forever  the  name  of  Englishmen  which  he  has 
covered  with  disgrace,  m  answering  with  defiance  his  mandate  which  bids  us 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    M52KRY    MEN.  29 

.grovel  in  the  earth  or  be  hunted  like  beasts — for  0,  men  of  Carolina,  he  has 
hurled  his  troops  upon  our  brethren  of  the  North,  has  rained  powder  and 
lead  and  iron  on  their  persons  and  their  homes,  till  their  fields  have  smoked 
with  flame  and  carnage,  and  their  valleys  become  crimsoned  with  blood ! 

;:  Rise,  men  of  Carolina !  if  ye  would  not  share  their  fate  !  Rise,  men  of 
the  borders — if  ye  would  preserve  your  lodges  from  the  flame !  Rise,  men 
of  the  wilderness,  if  ye  would  not  be  driven  to  consort  with  the  savage,  and 
be  hunted  like  the  wolf!  Rise,  men  of  the  fields,  if  ye  would  not  lose  your 
plantations  and  your  farms !  Rise,  men  of  the  workshop,  if  ye  would  not 
for  your  handiwork  receive  the  bondsman's  hire,  and  the  bondsman's  bread ! 
Rise,  men  of  the  law,  and  plead  for  God,  Humanity,  and  Freedom !  Rise, 
men  of  the  pulpit,  and  preach  woe  to  the  tyrant  and  the  murderer !  Rise, 
men  of  trade,  and  save  your  wares  from  the  spoiler !  To  arms,  0  men  of 
Carolina !  the  foot  of  the  tyrant  is  on  our  shores,  and  will  soon  be  on  our 
necks !  To  arms,  men  of  the  South !  the  oppressor  comes  with  torch  and 
carnage — the  land  is  red  with  blood ! 

"  As  for  me,  men  of  Carolina !  I  will  resist  this  despot  and  his  minions  to 
the  death !  As  for  me,  I  will  shoulder  my  rifle  and  with  all  who  will  follow, 
march  forth  to  meet  and  battle  with  his  hosts !  As  for  me,  I  do  hereby  con- 
secrate my  life,  my  fortunes  and  my  honor  to  the  cause  of  Freedom  and  Hu- 
manity !  As  for  me, — come  weal,  come  woe — I  do  here,  in  the  presence  of 
God  and  this  multitude,  make  an  offering  of  my  head  and  heart,  my  hand 
and  my  possessions,  to  my  country ! 

"  Join  with  me,  men  of  Carolina !  in  this  my  offering  to  Freedom.  Join 
with  me,  men  of  the  borders  and  the  wilderness ;  join  with  me,  cultivators 
of  plantations,  and  tillers  of  farms ;  join  with  me,  men  of  the  workshop,  and 
men  of  the  fields ;  join  with  me,  dealers  in  merchandize ;  join  with  me  men 
of  the  pulpit  and  of  the  bar — join  with  me  in  driving  back  the  cohorts  of 
tyranny,  in  uprearing  the  standard  of  Freedom,  in  proclaiming  the  reign  of 
the  despot  over,  in  avenging  the  fall  of  our  brethren,  in  shouting  from  hill 
and  from  valley,  from  the  wilderness  down  to  the  sea,  the  great  battle  cry  of 
our  colonies — God  and  Liberty  !" 

And  from  the  multitude  which,  laboring  under  the  eloquence  of  the  speaker, 
had  for  some  moments  been  tossing  to  and  fro  with  suppressed  excitement^ 
as  a  field  of  grain  is  sometimes  shaken  by  the  wind,  there  now  uprose  a  wild 
and  stormy  cry,  which  fell  like  a  crash  of  thunder  on  the  air,  and  was  heard 
for  many  a  mile  around. 

"  Woe,  woe  !"  continued  the  planter,  solemnly,  as  the  deafening  din  waa 
borne  away  on  the  aerial  waves,  "  woe  to  the  despot  who,  in  reddening  our 
plains  with  the  blood  of  our  people,  has  brought  us  to  this ! 

"  Woe  to  the  tyrant  who  has  made  light  of  our  sufferings,  -who  has  lashed 
us  to  madness,  who  has  aroused  us  to  wrath ! 

"Woe,  woe  to  the  monarch  who  has  called  up  our  anger,  who  has  pro- 
voked us  to  blood,  by  his  slaughter  and  flame  !" 

"  Woe,  woe !"  shouted  the  multitude,  brandishing  their  weapons,  like  men 
ready  and  eager  for  battle. 

"  Woe,  woe  to  the  ingrate  who  has  grown  strong,  haughty  and  rich  on 
our  substance,  and  returns  it  with  fire,  returns  it  with  blood ! 

"  Woe,  woe  1"  repeated  the  throng. 

"  Woe,  woe  to  the  monarch,  woe  to  his  minions,  should  they  come  on  our 
borders,  should  they  tread  on  our  valleys,  should  they  appear  on  our 
hills !" 

"  Woe,  woe  1"  yelled  the  multitude,  frantic  with  rage. 

"  For  they  have  slaughtered  our  brethren,  have  chased  them  with  bullet 
and  cannon  and  steel,  and  fired  their  homesteads  and  laid  waste  their  fields. 
Woe,  woe  to  them,  woe  !" 


30  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

And  again,  with  countenances  darkened  with  rage,  the  throng  flourished 
their  weapons  and  yelled  aloud, 

"  Woe,  woe !" 

"  For  the  blood  they  have  spilled,  they  shall  give  blood  in  return  !" 

"  Aye — aye— blood  in  return  !" 

"  For  every  life  they  have  taken,  they  shall  pay  it  with  five  1" 

"  With  five !" 

"  For  every  hearthstone  they  have  broken,  they  shall  do  penance  in 
blood !" 

"  Do  penance  in  blood !" 

"  Till  the  last  legion  is  broken  and  prostrate  and  slain ;  till  the  last  vessel 
that  brought  them  lies  a  wreck  on  the  ocean,  without  captain  or  crew ;  till 
the  last  vestige  of  kingcraft  lies  smouldering  in  ashes,  reposing  in  death  !" 

"  Smouldering  in  ashes,  reposing  in  death  !" 

^vThus  shall  we  destroy  the  despot:s  power  to  do  us  harm,  thus  dash  aside 
for  ever  the  bitter  chalice  from  which  he  would  compel  us  drink ;  thus  shall 
we  pass  from  danger  unto  safety ;  thus  climb  from  bondage  up  to  freedom ; 
thus  stride  from  misery  to  happiness ;  thus  stalk  from  weakness  and  decay 
to  strength,  security  and  progress ;  thus  pass  from  the  vassalage  of  bondsmen 
to  the  independence  of  freemen  ;  thus  climb  from  poverty  and  darkness,  to 
prosperity  and  light ;  thus  pass  from  slavery  j  danger  and  misrule,  to  freedom, 
security  and  order !" 

"  Freedom,  security  and  order !" 

And  with  these  words,  there  rose  up  from  the  multitude  on  the  green,  a 
shout  that  made  the  welkin  ring  and  reverberate  like  echoes  of  thunder  amid 
wild  and  cavernous  hills. 

i!  Thus,"  continued  the  planter,  his  countenance  beaming  with  a  radiance 
and  grandeur  which  gave  him  an  air  of  such  sublime  majesty  that  the  majo- 
rity of  his  hearers  never  frrgot  it  to  their  dying  day,  and  which  impressed 
many  of  them  with  the  conviction  that  the  words  which  followed  were  the 
offspring  of  prophetic  inspiration,  "  thus  on  the  ruins  of  a  cruel,  selfish  and 
ungrateful  despotism,  shall  we  erect  the  structure  of  a  free,  liberal  and  flour- 
ishing republic  ;  thus  shall  we  teach  a  lesson  to  kings  they  will  remember  to 
their  latest  hour  ;  thus  shall  we  make  of  these  colonies  and  this  whole  conti- 
nent a  gigantic  republic  which  shall  open  its  broad  arms  to  the  weak  and 
oppressed  of  all  climes,  and  by  the  force  of  its  moral  and  physical  strength 

"  Thus,  0  men  of  Carolina,  shall  we  serve  ourselves,  humanity  and  God ! 
Thus,  by  one  brave  effort,  shall  we  shake  off  the  fangs  of  a  monster  who  re- 
gards us  but  as  vassals  whom  he  is  privileged  to  abuse,  ruin  and  destroy  ac- 
cording to  his  humor !  Let  all  who  love  freedom  and  abhor  tyranny,  follow 
me ;  let  all  who  would  emerge  from  misery  to  happiness  strike  a  freeman's 
blow  with  me ;  let  all  who  shudder  at  this  brutal  murder  of  our  brethren  at 
the  North — all  who  have  in  their  breasts  true  and  gallant  hearts,  enlist  with 
me  in  the  cause  of  freedom  and  humanity ! 

"  Beside  me,"  pointing  to  the  gentleman  from  St.  Johns,  "  stands  one 
whom  many  of  you  know.  You  have  seen  him  in  the  roar  and  smoke  and 
brunt  of  battle,  and  know  him  for  a  soldier.  You  have 'been  familiar  for 
years  with  his  fame  as  a  calm  and  upright  citizen,  and  know  him  for  a  man. 

"  He  is  now  fresh  from  Charleston,  with  authority  from  the  patriot  leaders 
to  raise  men  for  a  campaign  against  the  royal  cohorts  who  have  shed  Ame.  - 
ican  blood. 

"  In  this  glorious  cause  are  enlisted  the  best  and  bravest  of  Carolina's  sons- 
men  and  arms  are  waiting — men  of  Carolina,  will  ye  join  our  ranks  ? 

"  Here  in  sight  of  God  and  this  multitude  of  witnesses,  I  write  my  name 
the  first  upon  this  scroll ;  here  do  I  consecrate  my  name,  my  fortunes  and 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  31 

my  arm  to  freedom — thus  pledge  myself  and  mine,  come  weal  come  woe,  to 
the  bright  mistress  of  my  soul — my  country !" 

He  ceased.  For  a  moment  the  throng,  spell-bound  by  his  words,  was 
silent  and  motionless.  Then  drawing  a  long  breath,  the  mass  uttered  a  low 
murmur  as^f  striving  to  find  a  vent  for  the  feeling  that  oppressed  it.  A  mo- 
ment more,  and  it  rocked  to  and  fro  like  a  moving  sea ;  then,  as  if  it  had 
succeeded  in  shaking  off  the  trance  in  which  it  had  been  wrapt,  the  murmur 
was  followed  by  a  loud  roar  which  shook  the  air  like  a  discharge  of  thunder. 

This  had  scarcely  passed  away  when  a  confused  and  eager  rush  was  made 
for  the  stand. 

"  Mr.  Somers !  put  my  name  down  thar',  jest  onderneath  yourn !"  cried  a 
voice,  which  was  at  once  recognized  by  the  crowd. 

"  Hurrah  for  Nat,  the  scalp  hunter !"  cried  the  multitude,  with  enthusiasm. 

"  And  here's  a  name  will  follow  that !"  cried  a  tall,  gaunt  young  fellow, 
with  a  rollicking  eye  and  hair  of  a  fiery^  red,  who  now  sprang  upon  the  plat- 
form, arid  seizing  the  pen  dashed  off,  in  a  clear  bold  hand,  a  name  afterwards 
rendered  immortal.  It  was  that  of  John  Maodonald. 

"  Hold  on,  Jack !"  cried  a  young  farmer  with  a  pale  complexion,  an  eye 
black  and  piercing  as  an  eagle's,  short  black  hair,  and  a  frame  slender  as  a 
woman's,  but  supple  and  muscular  as  steel ;  "  you  can  write,  and  I  can't 
Just  put  my  name  down  there,  will  you  ?" 

"All  right,  Bill,"  answered  Macdonald,  "there  it  is,  in  as  saucy  a  hand  as 
a  schoolmaster  could  make  it."  And  he  wrote  in  large,  bold  characters  a 
name  that  was  subsequently  destined  to  attain  a  high  place  on  the  scroll  of 
American  fame.  That  name  was  William  Jasper. 

"Hello,  capting!"  shouted  in  a  loud  nasal  twang,  a  personage,  dressed  in  a 
rough  minting  shirt,  and  a  slouched  beaver,  whose  gigantic  height,  bold  pro- 
file, and  lean,  gaunt  figure,  pronounced  him  one  of  the  "  dangerous  custom- 
ers" so  common  among  the  colonists  of  that  day,  "  I've  an  idea  my  pot  hooks 
wouldn't  look  any  wuss  'en  anybody's  else,  an  'so  I'll  skretch  'em  down !" 
And  elbowing  his  way  through  the  throng  by  whom  he  was  surrounded,  and 
who  readily  yielded  a  passage  to  the  sharp  elbows  of  the  colossus,  the  speaker 
worked  his  way  to  the  side  of  the  platform  up  which  he  at  once  clambered 
with  all  the  agility  of  a  squirrel. 

Taking  the  pen,  he,  after  numerous  contortions,  both  of  body  and  face,  at 
length  succeeded  in  writing  off,  in  letters  gaunt  and  lean  as  his  own  power- 
ful frame,  the  name  of  Peter  Snipes. 

The  work  went  on,  till  the  roll  of  the  gentleman  from  St.  Johns  was  rilled, 
and  he  declared  there  were  as  many  upon  the  paper  as  were  necessary  to 
form  his  company. 

The  throng  looked  sad  and  disappointed.  Scores  stood  around  the  plat- 
form anxious  to  enrol  their  names,  whom  the  pressure  had  till  then  kept  back. 

"  I  have  a  friend  here,"  said  Marion,  readily  comprehending  their  feelings, 
"  upon  the  same  errand  as  myself.  We  are  both  attached  to  the  same  regi- 
ment. It  will  be  all  the  same,  if  you  enlist  under  him.  Captain  Horry,"  he 
added,  turning  to  that  gentleman,  "  you  are  wanted  here  I" 

The  announcement  of  the  gentleman  from  St.  Johns  was  received  with 
loud  acclamations,  amid  which  captain  Horry  dismounted  from  his  horse, 
sprang  upon  the  platform,  and  opening  his  enlistment  roll,  declared  himself 
ready  to  receive  the  names  of  those  desirous  of  responding  to  the  call  of  their 
country.  The  bystanders  stepped  up  with  an  alacrity  that  was  cheering ; 
and  while  the  good  work  was  going  on,  the  gentleman  from  St.  Johns  and 
the  young  planter  occupied  one  corner  of  the  platform ;  the  former  deliber- 
ately inspecting  one  by  one  the  names  upon  his  list,  and  ever  and  anon  ques- 
tioning his  companion  relative  to  their  characters  for  probity,  intelligence  and 
courage ;  and  the  latter  answering  wilh  a  readiness  which  evinced  a  thorough 


32  THE    SWAMP   STEED  J    OR    THE   DAYS 

knowledge  of  the  habits,  attributes  and  positions  of  the  men  of  that  district, 
together  with  an  enlarged  and  correct  view  of  human  nature. 

While  they  were  thus  engaged,  Nat  the  woodsman  glided  quietly  from  hi* 
horse,  and  throwing  his  arm  through  the  rein,  bunched  his  hands  over  the 
mouth  of  his  rifle,  on  which  he  rested  his  chin,  and  then  flung  his  eyes, 
thoughtfully  at  the  gentleman  from  St.  Johns,  to  take  a  good  lou%  look  at  his 
future  commander. 

The  appearance  of  Captain  Marion  was,  to  the  eyes  of  t_ae  scalp  hunter, 
who  was  accustomed  in  a  great  measure  to  read  men's  characters  by  their 
external  aspect,  a  fit  subject  for  study. 

In  person,  he  was  short  and  slender ;  rather  below,  than  on  a  level  with, 
the  common  height.  His  limbs  were  small,  well  set,  muscular  and  wiry,  and 
evidently  inured  to,  and  as  capable  of  enduring,  the  most  severe  fatigues. 

In  manner,  the  gentleman  from  St.  Johns  was  frank,  easy,  graceful  and 
ubdued. 

His  complexion  was  of  that  bronzed  hue  peculiar  to  the  hardy  sons  of  th3 
wilderness  and  the  borders.  rt 

His  brows  were  shaded  by  masses  of  thick,  jet-black  hair ;  his  forehead 
was  broad,  high  and  smooth;  his  nose  small  and  aquiline ;  his  lips  diminutive, 
but  expressive  of  great  strength  of  will ;  his  chin  bold,  but  softly  and  deli- ' 
cately  rounded  at  the  point. 

But  it  was  in  liis  eyes  that  the  character  of  the  man  was  most  distinctly 
visible.  They  were  large,  the  pupils  unusually  clear  and  liquidious,  and 
piercing  as  an  eagle's;  evincive  of  a  free  and  unclouded  intellect,  great  depth 
of  brain,  extraordinary  powers  of  penetration,  a  tranquil  spirit,  and  an  un- 
bending will.  These  were  their  prevailing  aspect;  but  at  present,  while 
wandering  from  the  enlistment  roll  to  the  planter,  in  quest  of  intelligence, 
they  presented  another  phase,  viz :  that  of  obtaining  information  and  quietly 
storing  it  away ;  and  they  appeared  as  if  perpetually  engaged  in  thus  collect- 
ing and  laying  by  items  of  value  which  they  could  call  up  for  use  and  refer- 
ence at  a  future  day. 

"  He'll  du !"  muttered  the  scalp  hunter  to  himself,  as  he  completed  his  sur- 
vey of  his  future  commander.  "  The  metal 's  in  him ;  the  geenyus  is  in  his 
head,  the  grit  is  in  his  muscles.  How  quietly  he  draws  everything  from 
Neil ;  sounds  him  to  the  bottom  without  disturbin'  himself,  or  lettin'  a  crit- 
ter know  what  he's  up  tu !  He'll  du  !  Ef  he  lives  he'll  give  the  Britishers 
some  tetches  of  thunder,  with  a  small  sprinklin'  of  lightnin'.  The  geenyus  is 
in  his  head,  and  the  grit  in  his  muscles.  He's  got  a  nice  set  of  boys  tu,  tu 
work  with.  There's  that  Jack  Macdonald,  a  critter  that  could  take  the  hide 
off  a  painter  in  a  fair  fight  in  less  time  than  a  yaller  belly  could  whittle  off  a 
scalp.  And  then  there's  Bill  Jasper,  who,  ef  he  aint  got  much  larnin',  knows 
an  awful  lot  of  hewman  natur,  and  ken  whip  his  weight  in  wild  cats.  As  to 
Pete  Snipe,  I've  seen  him  tackle  a  dozen  redskins  at  a  lick,  without  a  finger 
of  powder  or  a  single  lead  drop,  and  cave  'em  as  ef  they'd  bin  corn  shucks. 
As  fur  Tom  Newton,  and  the  rest  of  the  cumpauy,  I  don't  know  sech  a  darn 
sight  about  'em,  but  they  look  as  ef  they  wouldn't  turn  tail  for  any  Britisher 
or  yaller  belly  in  the  col'ny,  and  I've  a  notion  that  in  that  respeck  they  don't 
look  fur  out 'er  the  way!" 

At  this  moment,  the  attention  of  the  scalp  hunter  was  drawn  from  the 
platform  to  the  crowd,  which  was  now  making  demonstrations  of  a  turbulent 
character.  In  another  instant  he  heard  a  cry — 

"Look  out!  the  sheriff  is  comin'  down  on  us!" 

This  was  speedily  followed  by  another — 

"  The  varmint  is  in  the  middle  of  the  troops.  Look  to  your  locks,  boys 
the  troops  are  comin'  I" 

"  Shoot  the  villains  I  fire  boys,  fire!" 

"  Stay !"  cried  a  calm,  authoritative  voice  from  the  stand.     It  was  that  ol 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN. 


t          33 


Marion,  on  whom  all  eyes  were  in  an  instant  turned.  "  Stay,  if  ye  are  men ! 
Let's  not  sully  the  sacred  cause  in  which  we  are  engaged  by  a  single  coward*- 
ry  act.  Until  these  men  proclaim  themselves  foes,  it  is  our  duty  to  regard 
them  as  friends.  Let  the  sheriff  speak — it  is  his  right  as  a  public  officer ! 
touch  not  his  supporters — they  are  but  fulfilling  a  duty  in  guarding  him. 
Should  they  lead  the  way  in  violence,  their  blood  be  on  their  own  heads !" 

The  throng  became  sullenly  silent,  and  fell  back — their  countenances  how- 
ever exhibiting  a  rebellious  spirit,  and  their  eyes  glaring  maliciously  at  the 
royal  officers  and  troops. 

The  sheriff  and  his  posse  advanced  down  the  high  road  skirting  the  green ; 
upon  reaching  the  centre  of  which  they  turned  their  horses'  heads  and 
guided  them  in  the  direction  of  the  tree,  between  which  and  themselves 
rose  a  compact  mass  of  armed,  stern-browed  men,  grasping  their  arms  firm- 
ly and  hurling  at  them  glances  sullen  and  flashing  with  indignant  fire. 

The  troops  paid  but  little  attention  to  those  threatening  demonstrations, 
and  at  a  "Forward!"  from  one  of  their  officers,  gently  spurred  up  their 
steeds,  a  supercilious  smile  lighting  up  their  features  the  while,  expecting  the 
crowd  to  fall  back  and  give  them  a  free  passage,  out  of  that  instinctive  fear 
and  respect  for  the  king  s  troops  which  they  had  so  long  been  accustomed 
to  witness  among  the  people. 

But  .pot  a  man  moved,  not  a  brow  unlocked  its  threatening  frown,  not  an 
eye  relaxed  its  fierceness. 

"  Forward !"  cried  the  leading  officer,  in  a  loud,  determined  voice,  and 
throwing  at  the  same  time  an  angry  glance  at  his  men.  "  Forward !"  he  re- 
peated, jerking  his  rein,  and  plunging  his  spurs  violently  into  the  sides  of 
his  steed. 

The  animal  bounded  forward  suddenly  toward  the  crowd,  followed  by  the 
remaining  officers  and  troops. 

At  this  moment,  a  hundred  rifles  were  raised  and  sighted,  the  sudden 
movement  of  which  frightened  the  animals,  and  threw  them  on  their 
haunches. 

"  Charge !"  cried  the  officer,  rising  in  his  stirrups,  and  hurling  a  fierce 
glance  upon  the  crowd. 

''Fallback!"  exclaimed  a  loud,  ringing  voice,  which  was  recognised  by 
nearly  every  ear  as  that  of.  the  most  intrepid  dare-devil  of  all  Wilh'amsburgh, 
viz :  Jack  Macdonald.  "  Fall  back,  I  warn  you !  Another  step — another 
movement,  and  a  hundred  rifles  shall  empty  your  saddles  in  an  instant! 
Do  you  think  to  ride  us  down,  as  if  we  were  cattle  ?"  • 

The  officer  trembled,  and  turned  his  eye  appealingly  to  the  sheriff,  who 
now  appeared  in  the  centre  of  the  two  lines  of  troopers,  and  between  two 
young  officers,  whose  handsome  features  and  striking  resemblance  to  one  an- 
other were  matters  of  profound  astonishment  and  remark. 

At  this  moment,  Nat.  the  woodsman,  turned  his  head  in  the  direction  of 
the  platform,  and  his  eyes  met  those  of  the  young  planter,  who  was  pale 
and  trembling. 

"  He  has  recognised  'em !"  murmured  the  scalp  hunter.  ~^~, 

The  sheriff  now  rode  forward,  and  raising  himself  in  his  stirrups,  ex- 
claimed— 

"  In  the  name  of  the  king,  I  charge  ye  to  open  a  passage  for  the  royal 
troops.  Do  you  hear  ?"  he  added,  angrily,  as  he  noticed  the  indifference  with 
which  his  order  was  received,  "  in  the  name  of  the  king !" 

The  crowd  remained  firm ;  not  a  movement  was  visible,  except  in  the 
ranks  of  the  .troops,  which  now,  at  a  signal  from  the  officer,  calmly  drew 
their  weapons  from  their  sheaths. 

"  Stay !"  said  the  sheriff,  with  an  agitation  he  tried  in  vain  to  repress. 
"Let  me  once  more  appeal  to  these  misguided  men,  who  surely  cannot 
dream  of  opposing  the  servants  of  His  Majesty !  Citizens,"  he  added,  turn- 

5 


34  THE   SWAMP   STEED  ]    OR   THE   DATS 

ing  to  the  multitude,  "I  command  ye,  in  the  name  of  the  king,  to  disperse, 
and  return  to  your  homes.  He  who  refuses  to  obey  this  order,  I,  by  virtue 
of  my  office  as  sheriff  of  the  county,  hereby  pronounce  a  traitor  and  an  out- 
law. Citizens,  disperse,  in  the  name  of  the  king !" 

The  throng  remained  stationary ;  not  a  man  moved. 

Big  beads  of  sweat  gathered  upon  the  brow  of  the  sheriff. 

"  Citizens,"  he  cried,  "  you  do  not,  it  appears,  comprehend  me.  I  have 
ordered  you  to  disperse,  and  you  do  not  seem  disposed  to  obey.  I  fear  there 
are  traitors  among  you ;  men  of  bad  hearts  and  evil  minds,  whose  serpent 
tongues  have  beguiled  you  of  your  better  judgments,  and  are  leading  you 
astray.  But  beware  how  you  trifle  with  the  servants  of  the  king ;  be  cau- 
tious how  you  tamper  with  the  crown !  I  feel  disposed  to  pity  your  weak 
minds,  and  to  overlook  your  great  crime  in  refusing  to  obey  my  order,  but 
only  on  one  condition." 

He  paused,  as  if  expecting  some  reply;  but  receiving  none,  he  resumed, 
in  a  voice  thick  with  emotion — 

"But  it  is  only  on  one  condition  that,  in  the  name  of  the  king,  I  will  over- 
look your  great  act  of  treason,  in  refusing  to  comply  with  the  order  which, 
as  a  servant  of  the  crown,  I  have  given." 

He  paused  again,  and  threw  his  eyes  over  the  multitude,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  great  sympathy. 

"  And  this  condition  is,  that  every  g9od  and  loyal  subject  of  his  majesty, 
King  George,  shall  instantly  leave  this  green  and  walk  out  into  the  high 
road.  This  will  enable  me  to  distinguish  who  are  for  open  and  avowed  trea- 
son, and  who  for  the  King !" 

And  with  these  words,  the  sheriff  resumed  his  seat  in  the  saddle,  and 
smiled  complacently  as  if  in  expectation  of  beholding  the  mass  br5ak  in  a 
thousand  fragments,  and  scatter  and  re-collect  out  upon  the  road. 

What  then,  was  his  amazement,  after  the  lapse  of  nearly  half  a  minute,  to 
discover  that  of  the  throng  not  a  man  had  moved,  and  that  the  highway  was 
as  void  of  their  presence  as  before !  He  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  looked  around 
him  wildly,  like  a  man  who  feared  to  place  credit  in  the  evidence  of  his 


Finding  tnen,  that  his  eyes  had  not  betrayed  him,  that  the  multitude  re- 
garded his  offer  in  the  same  light  with  which  they  had  treated  his  order,  that 
is,  with  indifference  and  contempt,  the  sheriff  threw  off  the  mock  expression 
of  sympathy  he  had  assumed,  and  turned,  with  a  countenance  blazing  with 
wrath,  to  the  captain  of  horse. 

"  Disperse  the  knaves !"  he  cried,  "  ride,  trample,  cut  them  down,  sir,  in 
the  name  of  the  king !" 

"Form  inline!"  said  the  officer,  turning  to  his  men.  "Unsling  your 
carbines — make  ready,  present ." 

Before  he  could  complete  his  sentence,  half  a  dozen  sharp  rifle  reports 
cracked  on  the  air :  the  officer  and  sheriff  reeled  to  and  fro  for  an  instant, 
and  then  dropped  from  their  saddles,  without  a  sigh,  without  a  groan ! 

This  significant  demonstration  operated  on  the  troops  like  a  charm.  Their 
carbines  dropped  from  their  hands  as  if  they  had  been  bars  of  fiery  iron. 

The  two  young  officers  alone,  of  all  the  troupe,  retained  their  courage  and 
self-possession.  They  exchanged  a  few  hasty  words,  and  then  rode  up  in 
front  of  their  comrades,  divided  them  into  two  divisions  of  twelve  men  each, 
and  then  filed  off  into  the  high  road,  for  the  purpose,  as  the  throng  supposed, 
of  taking  leave  of  the  town  altogether. 

But  in  this  the  multitude  on  the  green  were  mistaken.  The  young  offi- 
cers entertained  no  such  idea.  On  the  contrary,  they  looked  upon  this  as 
one  of  those  chances  in  the  life  of  a  soldier,  when  fame,  fortune  and  immor- 
tality, are  won  by  a  single  bright  thought,  a  single  gallant  deed ;  and*  they 
determined  to  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity. 


or  MARION  AXD  35 

On  reaching  the  high  road,  then,  each  ordered  hi?  division  into  line,  and 
prepared  for  battle. 

"  My  God !"  cried  a  voice  upon  the  platform,  which  summoned  Marion  to 
the  side  of  the  speaker. 

"  Somers — Somers  !"  said  he  in  a  tone  of  commiseration,  "are  you  ill !" 

"  Look  there !"  answered  the  planter,  with  a  groan,  and  he  pointed  to  the 
officers.  "  They  are  preparing  to  attack  us !" 

••  But  you  surely  do  not  fear  them  T'  said  Marion,  not  comprehending  him. 

••  Fear?  Yes — I  tremble,  not  for  myself,  but  my  mother.  Her  heart  will 
break,  should  she  learn  it!" 

And  the  young  man  appeared  as  if  about  to  die. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Marion,  with  an  air  of  perplexity,  "  I  fear  you  have 
taken  leave  of  your  senses." 

'•'  No,  no  ;  not  that — not  that !"  exclaimed  the  planter,  in  a  voice  of  such 
agony  that  it  seemed  as  if  his  heart  were  being  wrenched  from  him  by  some 
invisible  demon.  "  You  do  not  understand*  me,  and  this  is  not  a  tune  for 
explanation !" 

As  he  spoke,  his  eyes  fell  upon  his  horse,  which  stood  between  the  scaffold 
and  the  tree. 

"  Ha !"  he  cried,  a  sudden  ray,  as  if  of  inspiration  lighting  up  his  features, 
"  I  am  saved — she  is  saved !  God  of  heaven,  I  thank  thee !" 

In  an  instant  he  was  upon  his  horse,  and  driving  through  the  crowd,  who, 
deeming  him  mad,  rapidly  opened  for  him  a  passage,  through  which  he  sped 
like  lightning. 

The  planter's  cry  was  heard  and  his  movements  witnessed  by  the  scalp 
hunter,  who  no  sooner  beheld  him  spring  into  the  saddle,  and  plunge  through 
the  multitude,  than  he  at  once  comprehended  his  idea,  and  his  object  as  well. 

"  He  cannot  du  it  alone  "  he  murmured.  "  It  takes  two  to  kerry  thru  a 
scheme  like  that !  Give  way,  friends,"  he  cried  aloud.  '•  T  want  a  passage 
tu!" 

So  saying,  he  bent  down  and  whispered  in  the  ear  of  his  mare,  "  Now 
Nell— now,  old  gal!" 

The  next  instant  he  was  flying  through  the  crowd  as  if  a  legion  of  Indians 
were  on  his  trail. 

In  a  moment  more  he  was  on  the  road,  and  beside  the  planter. 

"  I  und'stand  yer  plan,  Neil,"  he  said  hurrriedly,  "  which  one  air  yew  goin' 
to  ketch?"  . 

"The  one  on  the  left,"  answered  the  other. 

"  I  und'stand."  answered  the  woodsman,  and  he  careened  over  to  the  di- 
Tision  on  the  right. 

"Take  care,  your  honor,"  said  a  trooper  to  his  commander,  "here's  one  of 
the  traitors  coming  up." 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  the  warning,  when  the  woodsman  glided  up,  and 
passing  his  long,  powerful  arm  around  the  officer's  waist,  lifted  him  from  his 
saddle,  and  placed  him  before  himself  on  his  horse. 

"  Now.  Nell — now  old  gal !"  and  away  flew  the  mare  with  her  double 
burden  back  to  the  green. 

"  Give  way  friends,  give  way !"  cried  the  woodsman. 

And  his  gallant  mare  dashed  through  the  amazed  crowd,  never  halting  till 
she  reached  the  stand,  where  she  was  joined,  a  few  moments  later,  by  the 
swamp  steed,  whose  back  was  also  freighted  by  a  double  burden. 

So  sudden  and  daring  had  been  the  whole  movement,  the  soldiers  could 
scarcely  credit  it  as  real  As  to  the  two  young  officers,  they  were  bewilder- 
ed ;  as  to  the  gentleman  from  St.  John's,  he  was  stupified.  And  the  multi- 
tude upon  the  green,  taking  it  simply  for  a  brilliant  stroke  of  genius,  rent  the 
air  Avith  deafening  hurrahs  of  admiration  and  delight. 

"  You  are  my  prisoner."  said  the  planter,  in  as  calm  a  voice   as  he  could 


-36  THE   SWAMP   STEED  J    OR   THE   DAYS 

assume  to  the  officer  he  had  captured.  "Blood  has  been  shed,  and  you  will 
consider  it  as  an  evidence  that  I  am  sincere,  when  I  tell  you,  your  life  is  not 
worth  a  pin's  fee,  if  you  make  an  effort  to  escape.  Your  sword  !" 

"You  have  the  courage  of  a  soldier,  and  the  air  of  a  gentleman,"  replied 
the  officer,  "  and  I  feel  confident  that  my  blade,  which  has  never  yet  been, 
tainted  by  dishonor,  will,  with  its  master,  find  honorable  treatment  at  your 
liands." 

As  he  finished,  he  drew  the  weapon  from  its  sheath,  and  taking  it  by  the 
blade  he  presented  the  handle  to  the  planter,  who  received  it  with  an  air  of 
grace  and  dignity  which  called  forth  a  murmur  of  admiration  from  the  crowd. 

"  Yours,"  he  continued,  turning  to  the  other  officer ;  "  nay,"  he  added,  as 
Ite  prisoner  turned  inquiringly  to  the  scalp  hunter,  who  replied  to  his  glance 
by  a  nod  of  approval,  "  I  ask  it  of  you  in  his  name,  and  that  of  your  brother 
— from  whom  you  would,  doubtless,  not  desire  to  be  separated  ?" 

"  Oh,  no !"  answered  the  prisoner,  taking  his  kinsman  by  the  hand. 

"  Mr.  Akarman,"  continued'  the  planter,  "  you  will  give  me  your  prisoner, 
will  you  not,  in  order  that  they  may  not  be  parted  ?" 

"  He  was  yourn  from  the  moment  he  was  taken,"  answered  the  woodsman. 

"  I  knew  it,  or  I  had  had  not  spoken,"  said  the  planter,  with  a  smile  of 
gratitude.  "  You  will  therefore  perceive,  sir,"  he  added,  to  the  officer,  "  the 
propriety  of  yielding  up  your  sword  to  me — to  me,  who,  as  your  conqueror, 
cannot  permit  you  to  retain  it." 

The  officer  no  longer  hesitated. 

"  Your  words  of  honor  now,  gentlemen,  as  soldiers,"  continued  the  plant- 
•er,  "  that  neither  of  you  will  attempt  to  escape." 

The  officer  drew  themselves  up. 

"I  ask  it  of  you,  as  gentlemen,"  continued  the  planter,  with  an  air  of  such 
supreme  dignity  and  grandeur,  that  the  officers  intuitively  recognized  in  him 
a  being  far  superior  to  themselves,  "  that  I  may  not  be  compelled  to  wound 
your  delicacy,  by  treating  you  like  men  who  would  violate  their  honor !" 

"  I  give  it  to  you,  sir,"  said  the  first. 

"  And  I,"  added  the  second. 

And  in  the  voice  and  air  of  the  planter,  so  replete  with  all  the  elements 
of  true  gentility,  the  brothers  felt  an  innate  influence,  magnetic  in  its  tone  and 
effect,  gliding  like  drops  of  mercury  through  their  organizations,  and  subdu- 
ing them  to  a  sense  of  their  inferiority,  which  they  could  neither  define  nor 


"One  thing  more,  gentlemen," said  the  planter.  "Your  troops  must  lay 
down  their  arms,  and  retire  from  this  county.  Oblige  me  by  returning  to  the 
•road,  and  giving  them  the  order." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  first  officer,  "  you  are  now  asking  too  much.  I  cannot  do 
that.  It  would  cover  them  and  myself  with  dishonor.  They  do  not  regatd 
themselves  as  your  prisoners !" 

"  But  they  soon  will  be ;  or  what  is  worse,  dead !  Reflect.  They  are  in  a 
hostile  attitude  to  five  hundred  men,  three  hundred  of  whom  have  rifles  in 
their  hands,  each  charged  with  a  messenger  that  kills  wherever  it  strikes. 
These  men  are  unerring  marksmen,  too,  and  impatient  to  test  their  skill  upon 
your  troops,  whom  they  regard  as  foes.  Reflect,  sir— reflect !" 

"I  have  reflected,  sir!"  answered  the  young  man,  haughtily. 

"  Reflect  again !  The  passions  of  this  multitude  are  aroused ;  their  hearts 
incensed  against  a  monarch  who  has  shed  the  blood  of  their  brethren :  and 
your  troops  wear  the  livery  of  that  king  I" 

"  You  have  had  my  answer,  sir !" 

"  And  I  ask  you  to  reconsider  it.  It  is  to  spare  the  lives  of  your  troops 
that  I  ask  you  to  do  this.  Reflect— twenty-four  soldiers  cannot  battle  with 
;4hree  hundred  keen-eyed  marksmen,  and  live  to  relate  the  feat !  They  may 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  37 

make  the  attempt,  but  they  will  fall  as  the  sheriff  fell,  drop  as  their  leader 
dropped,  in  the  effort." 

:'  My  men  understand  their  danger,  sir,  and  are  willing  to  face  it !" 

"  But  do  they  desire  to  do  so  ?  Tour  own  good  sense  must  tell  you,  judg- 
ing from  what  you  have  seen,  they  cannot  live  three  minutes  from  the  mo- 
ment our  men  raise  their  rifles.  The  destiny  of  these  troops  is  in  your  hands, 
not  in  their  own.  Though  soldiers,  they  are  yet  men,  and  as  such  cling  Kfa* 
men  to  life.  If  you  refuse  to  comply  with  my  request,  so  they  can  march 
off  alive,  they  will  remain,  but  it  will  be  to  kiss  the  earth,  to  take  their  eter- 
nal slumber."  ' 

"  Enough,  sir !"  returned  the  officer,  "  I  am  ready  to  accede  to  your  wish." 

"  'Tis  well,  sir.  I  will  not  insult  your  honor  as  a  gentleman  by  accompany- 
ing you.  Take  my  horse.  I  will  await  here  with  your  brother,  till  your 
return !" 

The  young  officer  bowed,  and  sprang  lightly  into  the  saddle. 

"A  passage  there,  friends!"  cried  the  planter  to  the  crowd;  "and  let  no 
man  insult  this  gentleman.  He  is  my  friend !" 

The  packed  mass  divided,  and  the  officer  passed  slowly  off  the  green,  and 
approached  the  troops. 

"  Comrades !"  he  cried,  "  resistance  is  useless.  We  are  in  the  hands  of 
men  who  know  their  power  and  are  prepared  to  use  it  My  brother  and  I 
are  prisoners,  but  you  are  free  to  return  to  Charleston  when  you  have  laid 
down  your  guns.  Spare  me  the  pain  of  giving  you  that  order,  but  believe 
me  when  I  tell  you  that  it  is  necessary  if  you  would  not  lose  your  lives  !" 

In  a  moment  every  man  had  unslung  his  carbine  and  dropped  it  upon  the 
earth. 

"  I  thank  you  gentlemen,"  continued  the  officer,  "for  this  manifestation  of 
your  confidence.  And  now  comrades,  farewell !  I  need  not  tell  you  what 
report  you  had  best  make  on  reaching  Charleston.  Farewell !" 

The  troops  raised  their  caps  in  token  of  adieu ;  then  forming  into  four  line* 
of  six  men  each,  they  dashed  off,  and  were  in  a  few  minutes  out  of  sight. 

The  officer  looked  after  them  till  they  had  disappeared ;  then  wheeling  his 
horse  about,  and  uttering  a  deep  sigh,  he  rode  slowly  back  to  the  platform, 
'on  the  green. 


CHAPTER    V. 

AT  one  of  the  two  white  curtained  windows  of  a  small  parlor  on  the 
second  floor  of  the  Palmetto,  an  inn  of  some  pretensions  to  respectability, 
standing  on  the  roadside,  and  commanding  a  fine  view  of  the  village  of 
Kingstree,  as  well  as  of  the  surrounding  country,  were  two  young  men, 
whose  eyes  were  watching,  with  an  expression  of  deep  interest,  the  proceed- 
ings upon  the  green. 

They  were  neatly  and  tastily  dressed  in  the  quaint  costume  of  that  period, 
and  their  general  air  pronounced  them  members  of  the  petty  aristocracy 
which  had  risen  even  in  that  day  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  borders. 

The  one  was  rather  foppish  and  effeminate  in  his  manner ;  the  other, 
though  evidently  not  less  proud,  was  yet  more  manly  in  his  appearance. 
Both  had  the  Saxon  blue  eye,  light  hair  and  fair  complexion  which  marked 
the  English  families  of  the  province  ;  as  the  black  hair,  dark  eyes  and  olive 
tinge  designated  those  of  the  French ;  and  as  the  sandy  locks,  gray  eyes  and 
fresh  cheeks  announced  those  of  the  Scotch  ;  all  of  winch  races  were  very 
Mberally  represented  among  the  borderers  of  that  section  of  the  colony. 


t  ' 

38  THE    SWAMP   STEED  ;    OK.   THE    DAYS 

"  They  are  carrying  matters  with  a  high  hand,  Crampton,"  observed  the 
plainest  of  the  two  to  his  companion,  as  the  sheriff  and  officer  fell  from  their 
horses ;  "  but  there  will  be  an  hour  of  reckoning  for  all  this  :  and  when  it 
comes,  yon  hero  of  to-day,"  and  he  pointed  to  Neil  Somers,  "  will  swing  for 
his  frothy  bravado,  and  take  his  last  look  of  earth  in  the  court-yard  of  the 
provost ! ' 

"It  certainly  is  horwible,  Wintah,"  answered  the  other  drawlingly. 
"  Hadn't  wo  bettar  go  away  from  heeah  ?  It  is  pausitively  dangerous !" 

"  Nonsense  !"  said  the  other,  contemptuously.     "What  have  we  to  fear  ?" 

"Everything.  If  those  fellows  should  fire  a  little  too  high,  and  a  ball 
should  come  this  way,  the  consequences  would  be  horwible  !  And  then  what 
would  my  mother  say  ?" 

"  Time  enough  to  fear  when  there  is  a  prospect  of  danger.  Why  do  you 
tremble  so  ?  For  shame,  man  !  Bring  back  the  blood  to  your  cheeks,  and 
calm  your  nerves,  or  I  shall  be  compelled  to  think  you  are  a  coward  !" 

"  0,  come  now,  Wintah,  none  of  your  dem'd  horwible  jokes — I  can't  see 
the  force  of  them.  They  are  pausitively  personal  and  excruciatingly  out- 
ridgeous.  What  would  my  mother  say  ?" 

"  Nonsense,  Crampton  !"  answered  the  other  in  a  milder  tone,  "  I  have  no 
intention  of  offending  you.  I  speak  as  a  brother  would  to  a  brother,  and 
not  as  a  man  to  a  stranger.  But  you  are  really  too  much  of  a  woman  in 
your  ways,  and  too  little  of  a  man.  Drop  your  effeminacy,  as  you  love  me. 
Think  you  my  sister  can  admire  in  you  what  she  detests  in  another  ?  If  so, 
undeceive  yourself.  Consider  whom  you  have  for  a  rival !" 

And  he  pointed,  as  he  spoke,  to  the  tall,  manly,  dignified  form  of  the  plan- 
ter upon  the  platform  on  the  green. 

"Pausitively,  Wintah,  you  have  a  dem'd,  horwible  way  of  expwessing 
yourself!'  exclaimed  the  exquisite.  "I  shall  be  compelled  to  get  angwy 
with  you !" 

"  Nonsense,  Crampton  !  I  am  a  plain  spoken  man ;  and  I  speak  plainly, 
because  the  case  demands  it.  But  I  warn  you,  I  can  never  do  anything  for 
you  with  Amy,  unless  you  throw  off  your  foppery.  Women  are  fond  of  men 
of  masculine  temperaments,  because  they  are  in  such  powerful  contrast  with 
their  own  effeminate  natures.  Look  at  Neil  Somers,  now;  there  is  hardly  a 
woman  in  all  Williamsburg  who  would  no*  give  her  chances  of  Heaven  to  win 
him.  And  yet  he  is  not  handsomer  than  you,  nor  a  twentieth  part  so  rich. 
Imitate  him,  Crampton,  if  you  would  succeed  with  my  sister:  for  I  warn 
you,  you  will  have  to  bring  oth(^  qualifications  than  those  of  an  accom- 
plished ladies'  man,  into  requisition,  to  win  the  heart  of  Amy,  whom  this 
planter  has  already  fascinated." 

The  exquisite  drew  back,  and  turning  to  a  mirror  that  was  suspended 
from  the  wall  between  the  windows,  examined  himself  with  an  air  of  super- 
cilious satisfaction. 

"  I  am  vewy  much  obliged  to  you,  Wintah,"  he  said,  running  his  jewelled 
fingers  through  his  curled  locks,  "  but  I  am  vewy  well  satisfied  with  myself, 
and  have  no  ideeah  of  copying  anybody." 

"  As  you  please,"  answered  the  other,  with  a  quiet  sneer,  "  but  if  you  fail 
in  winning  Amy,  forget  not  that  I  pointed  out  to  you  in  the  beginning  the 
only  way  in  which  you  could  succeed." 

"  But  such  a  widiculous  model  as  you  give  me,  Wichard — a  petty  plantah,  a 
fellow  who  associates  with  common  people,  and  is  seldom  seen  in  wespecta- 
ble  society.  What  would  my  mother  say  ?" 

"  Your  mother  has  spoiled  you,  Crampton ;  or  you  would  appreciate  the 
qualifications  of  a  man  like  Somers,  who  is  not  more  of  a  favorite  with  wo- 
men, than  he  is  popular  among  men.  I  tell  you,  Crampton,  he  is  a  rival 
worthy  of  your  highest  consideration.  Look  at  him  now,  as  he  dashes  from 


.\.\D    Hid    MEK.B.Y    MEN.  39 

on  his  spirited  charger,  followed  by  yon  gigantic  woodsman.  To 
the  window,  man — quick  !  \Vhat  has  he  in  view  now  ?  As  I  live — look !" 

He  caught  his  companion  suddenly  by  the  wrist  with  his  left  hand,  and 
with  the  other  pointed  energetically  to  the  planter,  who  had  at  that  instant 
lifted  the  young  officer  from  hiS  horse,  and  transferred  him  to  bis  own,  as  we 
have  already  described  it  in  the  preceding  chapter. 

-  Look,  Crampton,  look !  By  the  living  (rod !  they  have  captured  the 
twin  brothers,  in  the  very  face  of  the  troops,  and  are  actually  bearing  them 
ofij  prisoners !  And  there  the  varlets  sit  h'ke  dumb  statues  on  their  steeds, 
and  make  no  effort  to  save  them !  Ho,  there  !  knaves !"  he  cried  aloud  to 
the  troops,  "  are  ye  mad  !  Forward  to  the  rescue !" 

But  the  window-  was  closed,  a  fact  which  his  sudden  frenzy  had  caused 
him  to  overlook,  and  by  the  time  he  had  made  the  discovery,  the  captured 
officers  were  on  the  platform,  and  beyond  the  reach  of  the  soldiery. 

••  There  !"  continued  Winter,  turning  to  his  companion,  "  there  is  another 
of  his  feats,  and  one  which  will  make  his  name  ring  with  tenfold  popularity 
throughout  Williamsburgh.  Is  he  a  common  rival,  think  you  ?  Undeceive 
yourself!  I  tell  you,  Crampton,  he  will  shine  from  this  hour  with  greater 
brilliancy  than  ever  in  Amy's  heart.  Wake  up,  man.  Throw  off  your  draw- 
ing-room habits  and  put  on  the  energies  of  a  man  ;  or,  after  all,  this  '  petty 
planter'  will  walk  off  with  my  sister  !" 

"  No  fear  of  that,  Wichard ;  the  fellow  will  soon  be  out  of  the  way.  Don't 
you  wemembah  what  you  said  a  li ttle  while  ago  ?  The  pwovost  ?" 

"But  what  if  they  catch  him  not?" 

"  Oh,  Wichard,  but  they  will.  The  officers  of  the  cwown  are  vewy  stout 
— vewy !" 

"  Not  so  stout  as  you  think,  Cramptop." 

"  Oh,  yes  they  are,  my  deah  fellow.  You  cannot  conceive  what  confi- 
dence I  have  in  them !  They  are  as  stwong  as  ev-ah." 

"Does  the  scene  we  have  just  witnessed,  look  like  it?" 

"  Oh,  that  was  merely  a  tempo wawy  bwiumph  of  the  mob !  I  am  perfect- 
ly satisfied  with  the  power  of  the  cwown,  and  of  my  own  abilities  to 
readah  myself  pleasing  to  Miss  Wintah:  Besides,  Wichard,  you  perfectly 
surpwise  me,  to  hear  you  talk  ui  this  mannaw  of  that  thingamy — what's  his 
name  ? — the  plantah !  I  weallywentertained  the  idee-ah  that  you  hated  him 
most  outridgeously.  I  did  pausitively !" 

''And  you  thought  right!"  answered  Richard  Winter.  "Hate  him — 
that's  the  word ;  and  yet  you  can  see  Bban  do  him  justice  :  for  all  the  bitfcer, 
burning  hatred  that  lies  seething  in  my  heart,  cannot  take  away  one  jot  of 
his  popularity,  nor  cause  his  acknowledged  merits  to  diminish  a  single  grain. 
If  it  could,  think  you  I  would  spare  him  ?  No ;  I  would  plunge  him  into 
such  ignominy  as  would  make  his  proud  heart  break  and  wither  by  slow  and 
torturing  inches.  I  would  hurl  him  into  such  misery  as  would  make  the 
frightfulesi.  of  human  agony  seem  comparative  buss.  I  would  make  him  lie 
on  a  couch  of  such  exquisite  anguish,  that  a  bed  of  slimy,  crawling  asps 
would  be  an  Eden  to  it !" 

"  You  surprise  me,  Wichard !     Why  this  intense  enmity  ?" 

"  That  is  fny  secret !  When  I  have  him  in  my  grasp — when  he  lies  broken, 
bleeding,  crushed  and  ruined — when  calamity  after  calamity  shall  have  driven 
him  to  the  verge  of  despair,  and  but  one  other  woe  is  wanting  to 
make  his  cup  full  and  plunge  him  riven  in  hope,  withered  in  heart,  crushed 
in  soul,  over  the  brink  of  eternity,  then  I  will  stoop  and  breathe  that  word  in 
his  ear.  Till  then,  the  secret  remains  here,  in  this  heart,  locked  up  hi  the 
same  chamber  with  my  hatred,  and  there  it  will  remain  till  the  hour  shall 
have  come  when,  in  all  its  fierce  and  bristling  malignity,  it  can  step  forth  and 
sweep  him  from  existence." 

"  You  are  a  dweadful  fellow,  Wichard !  I  wouldn't  have  you  for  an  anemy 


40  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR   THE   DAYS 

on  any  account.  What  would  my  mother  say  ?  But,  now  I  think  of  it 
didn't  you  seduce  Miss  Somers  ?  Pausitively  that  was  a  shocking  affair ;  she 
•was  such  a  chawming  cweature.  I  had  sewious  intentions  at  one  tame  of 
trying  to  captivate  her  myself." 

"  Yes  "  answered  Richard  Winter,  "  that  was  my  first  step  m  vengeance. 
I  won  her  soft  heart— broke  it— rent  it  in  twain,  coolly,  calculatingly,  pre- 
meditatedly,  as  if  it  were  a  thread !  And  when  she  died,  so  carefully  had  I 
taken  my  measures,  there  was  not  a  family  in  the  village,  scarcely  in  the  Dis- 
trict, but  knew  with  her  death  the  taint  also  which  like  a  chaplet  of  infamy 
clung  to  her  name!" 

"  You  fwighten  me,  Wichard.  You  are  so  dem  d  cool  in  the  revelation  of 
your  enormities.  It  is  pausitively  shocking !  I  tremble  -while  I  look  at  yon. 
What  would  my  mother  say  ?" 

"  What  care  I  ?  I  am  no  boy,  to  fret  and  fume  and  froth  with  passion  be- 
cause my  feelings  have  been  outraged,  or  my  pride  wounded.  No ;  I  can 
think  calmly  on  my  my  injuries,  and  as  calmly  avenge  them  !  But  see— the 
mob  is  breaking  up  and  dispersing  ;  and  he — he  comes  this  way  with  his 
friends  and  prisoners  !" 

"  Hadn't  we  better  go,  Wichard  ?    I  feel  vewy  uneasy !" 

"  No  :  let  us  remain.  I  have  a  thought  that  needs  maturing.  Those  offi- 
cers are  friends  of  mine  ;  perhaps  I  can  do  them  a  service,  and  myself  a 
'gratification.  Who  knows?" 

And  quietly  dropping  the  curtains,  he  retired  from  the  window  to  ring  up 
the  landlord  ;  but  in  moving  the  drapery,  an  eye  in  the  advancing  group  had 
caught  his  person  :  that  eye  was  the  planters. 

"  Landlord,"  said  Richard  Winter,  as  that  personage,  appeared,  "  dice  and 
a  bottle  of  Moselle.  And  a  word  in  your  ear,"  he  added,  "  when  Somers 
and  his  party  have  made  their  arrangements  about  the  disposal  of  the  priso- 
ners, come  and  let  me  know,  will  you  ?" 

And  he  slipped  a  piece  of  gold  into  the  hand  of  mine  host,  who  returned 
a  significant  wink,  and  then  withdrew. 

"What,  my  deah  fellow,"  said  the  exquisite,  "shall  we  play?  I'm  de- 
lighted!" 

"  For  the  wine,  nothing  more,"  answered  Richard  Winter,  carelessly,  "I'm 
as  dry  as  a  panther." 

"  Oh  no,  Wichard — let's  make  it  intewesting.     My  purse  is  vewy  heavy."* 

"  And  mine  light  Besides,  you  have  too  many  due  bills  of  mine  already ; 
and  I  cannot  consent  to  borrow  any  more  till  I  have  means  to  pay  what  I 
already  owe  you !" 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  the  landlord  appeared  with  the  wine 
and  dice,  which  he  placed  upon  a  small  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room ;  then 
making  an  expressive  wint  in  reply  to  a  quiet  glance  from  Winter,  he  turned 
and  quitted  the  apartment. 

"  Break  the  bottle,"  said  Richard  Winter,  thoughtfully,  to  his  companion. 

"  There  !"  returned  the  exquisite,  as  he  complied  with  the  order  and  filled 
up  the  glasses.  "  Toss  it  off,  Wichard,  and  dwop  your  weflections.  I  never 
Eke  to  see  a  man  too  thoughtful ;  it  makes  one  uneasy.  I  never  weflectl" 

"  Twere  well  if  you  did !"  muttered  Winter  to  himself.  "  You  would  not 
then  be  the  tool  and  simpleton  I  have  always  found  you !" 

He  tossed  off  his  glass,  and  taking  up  the  dice  box,  affected  to  be  exhili- 
rated  by  the  wine. 

"  Come,  Crampton,"  he  exclaimed,  "  now  then  who  pays  for  the  Moselle  ?" 

And  shaking  the  box,  he  threw  the  dice  upon  the  table. 

"  Ten !  only  ten !"  he  cried,  "  I  shall  be  put  in  for  it  at  this  rate !" 

And  he  'threw  again ;  making  an  eight  count. 

"  What  else  could  I  expect !"  he  cried,  with  a  light  laugh.  "  Fortune 
delights  in  making  me  step  lower  and  lower,  each  succeeding  day !" 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  41 

And  he  threw  a  third  time ;  and  fifteen  rose  to  the  surface. 
"Ah!"  he  added,  "the  jade  is  not  so  bad,  after  all.     Thirty-three  would 
not  be  bad  with  any  other  antagonist ;  but  with  yon,  Crampton,  with  you 
who  are  fortune's  choicest  pet,' such  a  number  is  only  equivalent  to  a  de- 
feat!" 

"  You  flattah  me !"  returned  the  exquisite,  with  a  condescending  smile,  as 
he  rattled  the  box,  and  threw. 

"  Did  I  not  say  so,"  said  Richard  Winter,  quietly.     "  Twelve  !" 

"  Twelve  is  a  vewy  good  number,"  remarked  Crampton,  with  a  sparkKng 
eye.  "  I  have  evewy  confidence  in  a  twelve  when  it  is  opposed  to  a  ten  F 
What's  this ?  Fourteen!  Why,  this  is  extwemely  delightful!" 

And  rattling  the  dice  a  third  time,  ten  made  its  appearance. 

"  That  isn't  so  vewy  bad,  Wichard ;  do  you  think  it  is  ?  Pausitively,  it 
would  give  me  most  excruciating  pleashah,  to  play  that  way  all  day.  Let's 
have  another !" 

Richard  Winter  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  said,  with  affected  tipsyness,  "  my  noddle  won't  stand  it ;  whereas 
you,  Crampton,  you  are  as  cool  as  an  autumn  breeze." 

This  was  not  exactly  the  case ;  in  fact,  a  spectator  would  have  pronounced 
it  exactly  the  reverse  :  but  the  wealthy  exquisite,  upon  whom  the  Moselle 
was  operating  like  a  charm,  to  the  infinite  secret  satisfaction  of  his  companion, 
did  not  perceive  it,  and  patronizingly  exclaimed : 

"  Come  now,  Wichard,  don't  wefuse  in  that  mannah.  My  purse  is  heavy, 
and  nothing  would  give  me  more  pleashah  than  a  little  quiet  play.  Be  ac- 
commodating now — I  won't  entirely  fleece  you !" 

"  Well,  go  on,"  said  Richard  Winter,  with  affected  hesitation.  "  I  have 
but  twenty  guineas  about  me,  and  might  as  well  lose  them  !" 

As  he  spoke,  he  threw  his  purse  before  him  on  the  table. 

"  You  are  a  good  soul,  Wichard !"  murmured  the  exquisite,  following  his 
example.  "  Shall  we  make  it  interesting,  Wichard  ?  Twenty  guineas  isn't 
such  a  very  gweat  stake !" 

"  As  you  please,"  answered  Richard  Winter,  noticing  with  his  usual  quiet 
smile,  the  effect  of  the  wine  upon  lus  companion,  who  fortified  himself  every 
few  momente  with  a  fresh  sip  of  hiPMoselle.  "  Rattle  away  !" 

"Ei-eight!"  cried  the  exquisite,  throwing  down  the  dice.  "  Eight  is-is 
not  so  vewy  bad !" 

"  Very  clever !"  muttered  Winter. 

"  Seven !  That  ma^es  fifteen.  I  haven't  such  a  gweat  deal  of  con-fi- 
confidence  in  fifteen  iBLh — what's  that  ?" 

"  Ten !"  said  Richard  Winter,  taking  up  the  dice  and  rattling  the  box. 

"  Which  makes  twenty-five.  I  nevah  had  a  vewy  pwodigious  wespect 
for  twenty-fives.  I've  seen  'em  beat !" 

"  No  doubt,"  observed  the  other  as  he  rattled  the  box  and  threw  the  dice 
upon  the  table.  "  Twelve  !" 

"  Twelve  is  a  vewy  fine  nuinbah,  Wichard.  I've  heard  of  figures  winning 
tibat  were  much  lower  than  a  twelve.  What's  that?" 

"Sixteen!" 

"  Take  up  the  stakes,  Wichard.  Sixteen  is  good.  But  an  idee-ah  stwikes 
me.  Suppose  we  double  the  pile  ?" 

"If  you  desire  it,  certainly.     Go  on;  anything  to  accommodate." 

So  saying  he  pushed  the  box  across  the  table. 

They  resumed  their  play,  and  continued  it  for  abont  an  hour,  at  the  end  of 
which  time,  there  was  a  gentle  knock  at  the  door,  and  the  landlord  made  his 
appearance. 

Richard  Winter  was  at  that  moment  clearing  up  his  winnings,  having  drain- 
of'  hie  companion  of  his  last  guinea. 


42  THP   SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

"The  parties  are  going  to  remain  here  all  night,"  whispered  the  land- 
lord. 

"  And  the  officers?"  said  Richard  Winter. 

"Will  sleep  in  the  same  chamber  with  Mr.  Somers,  Marion  and  the  back- 
woodsman." 

"  Enough !  Detain  them  as  long  as  possible  in  the  morning.  I  will  use 
every  nerve  to  be  here  by  daybreak  with  a  posse  of  regulars.  That  for  your 
fidelity !" 

And  he  threw  the  man  a  guinea. 

"  Is  the  way  clear,  and  our  horses  ready  ?" 

The  innkeeper  nodded  a  quiet  affirmative. 

"  Thanks.     Follow  me,  Crampton !" 

And  taking  the  exquisite  by  the  arm,  who  appeared  to  lose  with  the  same 
pleasure  that  he  won,  Richard  Winter  and  his  companion  passed  quietly  from 
the  small  parlor  and  out  of  the  inn,  to  the  stable,  where  they  found  their 
horses  in  waiting. 

"  There's  a  crown  for  you,  you  rascal!"  exclaimed  Richard  Winter,  to  the 
black  hostler.  "  And  remember,  not  a  word  to  any  one  of  my  appearance 
here,  or  departure  !" 

"  I  is  up,  massa!"  returned  the  negro,  with  a  sly  leer. 

The  riders  glided  quietly  out  of  the  yard  and  turned  down  the  Georgetown 
road. 

"  Where  now,  Wichard  ?"  asked  the  exquisite,  with  his  usual  drawl 

"  You  had  best  home !"  answered  the  other.  "  As  for  me,  I  have  some 
hours  of  hard  riding  to  get  through.  Further  than  that  I  cannot  inform  you. 
Farewell!" 

And  waving  his  hand,  he  dashed  down  the  road. 

"  A  vewy  clever  fellow  is  Wichard !"  murmured  the  exquisite,  looking 
after  him  with  a  mingled  stare  of  astonishment  and  admiratisn ;  "  vewy 
clevah  indeed :  but  exwtemely  cwuel  in  his  wesentments.  If  I  were  such  a 
wicked  devil,  what  would  my  mother  say  I" 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE  twin  brothers,  as  the  reader  is  already  aware^ad  fallen  into  the  handa 
of  the  planter.  Fortune  had  unexpectedly  favored  {A  desires  of  that  gentle- 
man, and  granted  the  prayer  which  had  for  some  d^s  been  rising  from  his 
heart  to  his  lips,  and  from  his  lips  to  the  throne  of  grace. 

Wholly  ignorant  of  the  relationship  which  existed  between  themselves  and 
the  planter,  the  twin  brothers  merely  regarded  their  capturer  as  &  gentleman 
of  a  noble  and  superior  mind,  and  as  one  who  would,  out  of  that  high  respect 
which  he  entertained  for  his  own  honor,  treat  them  with  the  consideration 
due  to  their  standing  as  gentlemen,  and  the  gentle  rigor  due  to  their  position 
as  officers.  And  as  they  had  seen  sufficient  in  his  air  and  conduct  to  war- 
rant the  highest  confidence  in  his  honor,  they  felt  satisfied  to  follow  him, 
without  any  fears  as  to  the  result,  whithersoever  he  saw  fit  to  convey  them. 
They  had  also  a  firm  reliance  in  certain  influential  friends  at  Charleston,  and 
felt  confident  something  would  be  done  which  would,  in  a  few  days,  termi- 
nate their  detention  and  restore  them  to  liberty.  With  these  thoughts,  and 
buoyed  up  by  lively  spirits  which  ever  cluster  around  the  heart  of  young 
manhood,  they  resigned  themselves  tranquilly  to  their  position,  which  they 
individually  regarded  as  one  of  the  unpleasant,  but  not  uninteresting  episodes 
ia  the  life  of  a  soldier. 


OF    MARION    AM)    HIS     MERRY    MEN.  43 

On  reaching  the  inn,  the  planter  took  Captain  Marion  aside,  and  summarily 
explained  the  cause  of  his  interest  in  the  young  officers ;  which  exposition 
was  so  perfectly  satisfactory  to  the  gentleman  from  St.  Johns,  that  he  at 
once  proffered  his  assistance  to  convey  them  to  theft  destination,  which  offer 
was  readfly  and  gratefully  accepted. 

''  When  do  you  propose  starting  ?"  asked  Marion,  in  the  same  low  tone  in 
which  the  previous  exposition  had  been  discussed ;  "  to-morrow  morning  ?' 

"  That  was  my  intention,"  returned  the  planter ;  "  but  I  have  since  made  a 
discovery  which  will  render  it  necessary  to  proceed  almost  immediately." 

At  this  moment  the  landlord  entered  the  room. 

"A  lunch,  host,"  said  the  planter ;  "  and  get  it  ready  soon  as  possible — we 
are  famished." 

"  Will  you  honor  me  with  your  company  for  the  night,  gentlemen  ?  I  ask 
that,  in  case  such  should  be  your  desire,  I  may  order  the  beds  ready." 

"  You  may  get  them  in  readiness,  then,"  returned  Somers,  who  saw  in  a 
moment  by  the  hesitating  air  of  the  man  that  something  was  brewing. 

"Thank  you — thank  you!"  returned  the  landlord,  bowing  almost  to  the 
floor.  "  The  lunch  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes." 

"  The  man  is  too  obsequious !"  muttered  the  planter,  more  and  more  con- 
vinced that  his  suspicions  were  well  founded.  "Nat,"  he  added,  turning  to 
the  scalp  hunter,  in  a  whisper. 

"Well,  Neil?" 

"  He  is  here." 

"  Who  ?" 

"  Richard  Winter !  Don't  start — the  twins  are  observing  us.  Be  calm, 
and  believe.  I  saw  him  retiring  from  a  window  as  we  approached  the  inn. 
He  is  their  friend,  and  in  the  king's  interest  He  must  be  watched." 

"  I  kin  un' stand  the  necessity  of  that" 

"  And  therefore,  my  friend,  while  you  all  lunch,  I  will  keep  an  eye  on  the 
lane  from  the  window.  If  my  suspicions  are  correct,  he  will  soon  quit  the 
house ;  if  he  does,  it  will  be  to  return  with  a  force  of  royalists,  to  attempt  a 
rescue." 

"  I  un'stand,"  returned  the  scalp  hunter,  with  a  significant  wink ;  "  and  the 
unly  objection  I  have  tu  the  hull  arrangement  is  that  it  will  look  better  fiir 
me  tu  be  at  the  winder  than  yew." 

"If  you  think  so,  Nat " 

"  Wall,  I  du ;  and  with  all  respeck  to  yew,  Niel,  it  must  be  so." 

"  Lunch,  gentlemen."  said  the  landlord,  who,  at  this,  instant,  entered  the 
apartment.  y 

"  You  have  a  number  of  guests  here,  friend !"— said  the  planter  approach- 
ing him  and  speaking  in  a  low  confidential  voice ;  "is  Richard  Winter  among 
them  ?" 

"  N-no,"  stammered  the  man,  who  scarcely  knew  how  he  ought  to  reply. 

"  'Tis  well  I"  observed  the  planter.  "  This  man  has  been  tampered  with — 
he  even  lies !"  he  added  to  himself.  "  I  felt  convinced  something  .was  at 
work !" 

The  wine  and  edibles  made  an  excellent  repast,  to  which  all  parties  did 
ample  justice. 

During  its  discussion,  the  scalp  hunter  kept  watch  at  the  window,  and  per- 
mitted nothing  to  escape  him. 

"  I  will  change  places  with  you  now,  Nat,"  said  the  planter  approaching 
him. 

"  As  you  please,  Neil.  But  hadn't  somebody  better  be  posted  at  that 
winder  ?"  and  he  pointed  to  the  other  end  of  the  apartment  "  From  there 
yew  ken  see  intu  the  stable  yard.  If  the  critter  has  got  his  horse,  which  it  is 
more'n  likely  he  has,  he'll  hev  tu  go  down  thar'.  " 

"  A  good  idea,  Nat.     Captain  Marion  will  you  step  this  way?" 


44  THE    §WAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

That  gentleman  approached;  and  upon  matters  being  explained  to  him,  he 
consented  to  watch  at  the  rear  window. 

Meanwhile  the  woodsman  seated  himself  at  table,  and  attacked  the  edibles 
with  a  speed  which  evinced  his  anxiety  to  get  through  with  it  as  quickly  as 
possible  and  a  gusto  which  satisfied  the  officers  he  was  laying  in  provisions 
for  many  days.  He  had  scarcely  finished,  when  his  quick  ear  detected  the 
sound  of  footsteps  lightly  descending  the  staircase,  and  he  cautiously  joined ' 
Marion  at  the  rear  window. 

In  a  few  moments,  he  perceived  Winter  and  his  companion  cross  the  court 
yard,  the  gate  of  which  was  at  the  same  instant  quietly  opened  by  the  land- 

"All  right!"  murmured  the  scalp  hunter.  "They're  putty  cunnin',  but 
not  quite  so  much  so  as  they  might  be !" 

The  horses  with  their  riders  now  moved  slowly  from  the  yard ;  and  the 
scalp  hunter,  tapping  the  gentleman  from  St.  John's  significantly  on  the 
arm,  moved  across  the  apartment  to  where  the  planter  was  stationed. 

Their  eyes  met,  significantly,  and  Somers  whispered — 

"  He  is  off  for  assistance.  We'll  give  him  twenty  minutes'  start,  and  then 
be  in  our  saddles.  I'll  down  and  see  the-  landlord  ;  you,  Nat,  look  to  the 
horses,  and  you,  my  friend,"  turning  to  Marion,  "attend  to  the  officers,  and 
notify  them  of  our  sudden  intention  to  proceed." 

In  a  few  minutes  everything  was  prepared,  and  at  the  time  appointed  they 
took  leave  of  the  inn  and  the  village,  leaving  the  landlord  in  a  state  of  stu- 
pifaction. 

"Cuss  'em!"  he  exclaimed.  "Winter  will  swear  I  knew  of  their  intended 
departure,  and  purposely  deceived  him!" 

The  planter  rode  ahead ;  the  twin  brothers  followed  ;  Marion  and  the  scalp 
hunter  brought  up.  the  rear.  They  rode  hard,  for  night  was  at  hand,  and  it 
was  necessary  to  reach  their  destination  before  darkness  should  set  in. 

They  took  a  by-road  skirting  the  Black  River,  and,  keeping  out  of  obser- 
vation as  much  as  possible,  plied  whip  and  spur  till  they  were  entirely  out  of 
Bight  of  the  village.  Then  taking  the  beach,  they  swam  their  horses  across 
the  stream,  and  reached  the  opposite  shore. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  planter,  turning  to  the  officers,  who  began  to  dis- 
play signs  of  impatience  and  fatigue,  "  don't  retard  our  journey  by  murmur- 
ing or  holding  back.  We  have  yet  a  long  ride  before  us  ;  and  unless  you 
prefer  the  dangers  of  a  night  in  the  woods  and  swamps,  to  an  early  bed  and 
a  pleasant  repast,  you  had  better  follow  our  example  and  give  your  horses 
a  free  rein !" 

This'  was  sufficient  to  silence  the  discontented  mutterings  of  the  twin  broth- 
ers, who  uttered  not  another  word  till  they  reached  their  destination. 

The  planter  took  the  shortest  route  with  which  he  was  familiar,  and  in  due 
time  they  reached  the  banks  of  the  San  tee. 

Here,  taking  a  flat  boat,  they  were  ferried  across  to  the  opposite  shore,  and 
the  planter  cautiously  led  the  way  up  a  gradually  rising  hill,  for  twilight  had 
now  fallen,  and  the  timber  and  brushwood  around  them  shut  out  to  a  consid- 
erable degree  the  little  light  that  was  left,  rendering  the  ascent  annoying  and 
their  progress  very  slow. 

They  reached  at  length  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  then  slowly  journeyed  on 
through  the  timber  for  about  a  hundred  yards,  when  they  suddenly  entered 
a  small  clearing,  about  thirty  acres  in  extent,  at  the  extremity  of  which,  sur- 
rounded by  a  paling  of  rough  saplings,  stood  a  small,  neat  lodge,  to  which  a 
rich  stream  of  silver,  hurled  on  it  by  the  moon,  gave  the  appearance  of  a 
palace  in  the  wilderness. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  planter,  "  we  have  reached  our  destination." 

And  he  struck  into  a  path  leading  to  the  lodge,  followed  by  his  compan- 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  45 

ions,  who,  it  muat  be  confessed,  were  sufficiently  fatigued  to  thank  their  stars 
for  bringing  them  to  their  journey's  end. 

The  planter  dismounted  on  reaching  the  paling,  and  knocked  loudly  at  the 
cottage  door.  A  few  moments  afterward,  a  voice  was  heard  within. 

"Who's  there?" 

"Friends !" 

"  What  friends  ?" 

"  Friends  from  Charleston,"  answered  the  planter,  in  what  appeared  to  his 
companions  preconcerted  words. 

"In  a  moment,"  was  the  reply  in  a  hurried  tone  ;  and  the 'next  instant 
the  door  of  the  lodge  was  thrown  open,  and  a  young  man  half  dressed  ap- 
peared upon  the  threshold. 

"  You  are  here,  then,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  respectful  surprise  ;  "  I  did 
not  look  for  you  so  soon.  Are  they  with  you?"  he  added  in  a  low  whisper. 

"  Yes.     Is  everything  prepared  ?  " 

"  Everything." 

"  You  are  sure  of  that  ?" 

"  I  am,  and  1 11  stand  to  it" 

"  Get  lights,  then,  and  a  "repast.  We  have  ridden  a  long  distance,  and  are 
well  nigh  famished.  Wake  Mingo,  and  bid  him  look  to  the  horses." 

The  young  man  bowed  respectfully,  then  turned  on  his  heel  and  disap- 
peared in  the  darkness  of  the  cottage. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  planter  to  his  companions,  "  dismount.  A  servant 
will  attend  to  your  animals." 

All  parties  were,  shortly,  seated  at  a  rude,  but  well  furnished  table,  from 
which,  their  meal  once  despatched,  they  arose  considerably  refreshed. 

"  The  hour  now?"  asked  the  planter. 

"  It  is  on  the  point  of  twelve,"  answered  the  gentleman  from  St.  John's, 
consulting  a  pocket  chronometer. 

"  So  late?  How  time  flies !  Thanking  you  for  your  assistance  in  the  mat- 
ter which  brought  us  hither,  I  commend  you  to  your  beds.  Ned,"  he  added 
turning  to  the  young  man  who  had  charge  of  the  cottage,  "  show  these  gen- 
tlemen to  their  resting  place.  Good  night,  sirs !"  he  added  in  response  to  the 
adieus  of  the  woodsman  and  captain  Marion,  who,  now,  preceded  by  Ned, 
retired  from  the  apartment. 

"Gentlemen,"  continued  the  planter,  turning  to  the  officers,  "if  you  are 
sufficiently  refreshed  by  your  repast,  and  not  over  desirous  as  yet  of  sleep,  I 
would  like  a  few  minutes  of  your  society  in  the  open  air." 

"  We  are  ready  to  follow  you,  sir." 

"  Thank  you — thank  you.     This  way,  then !'' 

And  the  planter  led  the  way  out  of  the  lodge  to  a  small  green  pateh  in  the 
clearing,  situated  some  thirty  or  forty  yards  from  the  cottage. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  planter,  "  sit  down  here  with  me,  on  the  sward, 
and  give  me  your  attention  ;  what  I  have  to  tell  you  affects  you  nearly, 
more  so  than  you  now  think,  and  yet  not  you  more  than  myself.  I  have 
to  make  my  apologies  for  the  rude  manner  in  which  I  prevented  you  to-dav 
from  the  commission  of  a  crime  !" 

The  twin-brothers  looked  at  one  another  in  surprise. 

"  A  crime !"  murmured  Frederick. 

"  A  crime,  sir !"  exclaimed  George. 

"  Yes,  gectlemen,  a  crime.  For  it  is  a  crime,  is  it  not,  to  raise  our  hands 
and  voices  against  the  land  that  gave  us  birth !" 

"  We  were  but  discharging  a  duty,"  said  Frederick,  haughtily ;  "  what  is 
there  criminal  in  that  ?" 

"What  duty  were  you  discharging?'' 

"  That  which  we  owed  to  the  king." 


46  THE   SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

"  Tel  me,  sirs,  the  nature  of  that  duty.     I  must  confess  I  do  not  under- 
"  The  duty  of  all  good  and  loyal  subjects  :  to  protect  the  interests  of  the 

"  Against  those  of  the  people  ?  Or  is  it  that  the  people  have  no  interests  ? 
To  serve  one  man — the  king  is  but  a  man— you  would  destroy  hundreds, 
yea  thousands !  Is  this  your  creed,  0 !  sons  of  humanity  ?  Humanity  ar- 
rayed against  humanity,  to  feed  the  pride  and  avarice  of  one  who  would 
crush  humanity  to  exalt  himself!  Where  learned  you  this  strange  and  un- 
natural doctrine  ?" 

"  In  England." 

"  That  England  to  which  you  were  taken  when  infants — that  England 
which  taught  you  to  forget  the  ties  of  kindred  and  country — that  England 
which  holds  the  ashes  of  your  father — that  England  which  tramples  upon  the 
clime  of  your  birth,  and  by  her  selfish  and  oppressive  exactions  first  irritates 
and  then  plunges  it  into  madness,  suffering  and  blood — that  England  which 
you  have  just  left  to  revisit  your  native  land,  not  to  save  it,  but  to  help  a 
tyrant  to  still  further  enslave  it!  And  this  you  call  .DUTY  !" 

"What  mean  you,  sir !"  exclaimed  Frederick,  in  a  tone  of  agitation.  i!  You 
transgress  the  laws  of  chivalry  by  thus  insulting  us.  We  are  your  prisoners, 
but  you  have  no  right  to  take  advantage  of  our  position  by  endeavoring  to 
persuade  us  from  our  fealty  to  the  king !" 

"  The  king — the  king — always  the  king !"  said  the  planter,  shaking  his 
head  mournfully.  "  Can  your  lips  utter  no  higher  word  than  that !  Must 
you  always  return  to  the  Icing  !  Persuade  yop  from  the  fealty  you  owe  him  ? 
Man's  first  fealty  is  to  his  God — the  only  King ;  the  next,  to  his  country ! 
What  is  it  you  owe  the  king — and  what  do  you  not  owe  your  country?" 

"  You  talk  strangely,  sir.     The  country  is  the  king." 

"  If  so  would  the  king  oppress  it,  and  wrap  it  in  fire  and  smoke  and  carn- 
age— what  wise  king  would  do  that  ?  Say  he's  a  fool,  then,  would  you  allow 
a  fool  to  guide  the  affairs  of  a  nation  to  ruin  and  destruction  ?  It  is  because 
he  is  at  war  with  the  interests  of  the  country,  that  the  country  has  risen 
against  him.  You,  who  owe  allegiance  to  that  country,  because  it  gave  you 
birth,  should  not  be  found  on  the  side  of  its  chiefest  enemy.  It  is  treason  to 
nature,  to  humanity,  to  God !" 

"  How  know  you  we  are  of  this  country  ?"  demanded  the  twins,  who  were 
visibly  agitated. 

"  How  know  I  that  the  name  of  one  of  you  is  Frederick,  the  name  of  the 
other  George  ?  How  know  I  that  you  both  saw  the  light  of  heaven  at  one 
and  the  same  hour  ?  How  know  I  that  you  were  born  in  Carolina,  and 
quitted  it  with  your  father  for  England  when  you  were  scarcely  old  enough 
to  prattle  the  names  of  father,  mother,  brother,  sister  ?  How  was  it  I  re- 
cognized you  both  as  the  sons  of  Lionel  Somers,  whose  features,  air,  voice 
and  figure  live  again  in  you  as  they  once  lived  in  him !" 

The  young  officers  trembled  as  if  shaken  by  an  ague ;  but  not  more  so 
than  the  planter,  whose  powerful  will  alone  prevented  him  from  allowing  it 
to  be  visible. 

"  0!"  he  continued,  "I  could  tell  you,  sirs,  of  evidences  greater  even  than 
these.  I  could  tell  you  of  names  you  were  accustomed  to  prattle  fondly  ere 
you  quitted  Carolina  for  England — that  England  to  which  you  went  as 
strangers,  and  which  taught  you  so  soon  to  forget  the  land  in  which  you 
were  born,  the  names  that  you  prattled,  the  forms  that  you  loved.  I  could 
tell  you  of  a  mother  whose  heart  broke  when  she  lost  you — of  a  brother 
whose  cheek  paled  when  you  went  away  and  returned  not,  of  a  sister  who 
grew  up  without  remembering  she  had  seen  you  !" 

"Merciful  God!"  cried  Frederick,  in  a  voice  of  frightful  agony.  '•  what 
mad  tale  is  this !" 


. 

I 

OF    MARION   AND   HIS    MKRRY    MEN.  47 

"  Man — man !"  cried  George  hoarsely,  "  what  wild  fantasy  is  this  with 
which  you  are  appalling  us !" 

"  I  could  tell  you,"  resumed  the  planter  as  if  they  had  not  spoken,  "  of  a 
wild,  unprincipled  adventurer's  mercenary  marriage  with  one  of  G-od's  purest 
creatures ;  of  his  infidelities,  his  frauds,  his  hypocrisies,  his  cruelties,  and  his 
brutalities,  times  without  number,  on  her  his  victim-wife  ;  of  his  robbery  of 
her  property,  and  of  his  dastardly  flight  to  England  with  his  two  pet  young- 
lings, leaving  her,  his  victim,  and  the  other  two  little  ones,  to  breast  and 
struggle  as  they  might  with  the  f  stern  misery  in  which  his  brutality  had 
plunged  them !  I  could  tell  you  of  their  hard,  trying  fate  for  many  a  long 
year,  while  he,  the  author  of  their  sufferings,  the  causer  of  their  w«es,  was 
rioting  in  debauchery  in  another  land — in  England ! — with  her  money,  and 
training  her  children  and  their  brothers  up  in  forgetfulness  of  her,  of  them, 
and  of  their  country !" 

"  Great  God !"  cried  the  twins,  moaning  with  anguish.  "  what  frightful 
tale,  what  inhuman  man,  is  this  ? 

"  I  could  tell  you,"  continued  the  planter,  "  of  the  misery  which  day  by  day 
inscribed  its  woe-prints  on  the  brow  of  that  poor  mother,  that  suffering  vic- 
tim-wife. I  could  tell  you  how  the  rose  upon  her  cheek  faded  day  by  day, 
till  it  disappeared  to  return  no  more.  I  could  tell  you  how  her  form  lessened 
gradually  away,  till  it  became  so  frail  and  slender  that  a  breath  appeared 
potent  enough  to  waft  it  to  its  eternal  home.  I  could  tell  you  of  her  prayers 
for  the  bad  man  who  had  deserted  her,  and  for  the  two  loved  ones  who  had 
forgotten  her,  in  their  home  far  away ; — of  her  sighs  in  her  walks  by  day  and 
in  her  dreams  by  night,  as  she  thought  of  her  Frederick,  of  her  George  I" 

"Man — man!"  cried  Frpdorick,  with  an  emotion  that  was  frightful,  and 
with  tears  that  were  scalding,  "are  these  things  so  that  you  are  telling 
us!' 

"  Or  I  had  not  spoken  them,"  answered  the  planter,  with  a  calmness  that 
was  forced. 

"  And  they  apply  to  us,  and  to  our  father  ?" 

"  To  your  father  and  to  you." 

"In  every  particular?" 

"Or  I  had  not  uttered  a  solitary  word!" 

"  It  is  terrible — it  is  frightful !  Who,  then  are  you — who  tell  us  this, 
which  tears  my  brother's  heart  and  mine  ?" 

"  I  am  a  living  witness  of  your  father's  perfidies,  your  mother's  woes.  I 
am  at  once  the  accuser  of  your  father,  the  sole  staff  and  defender  of  you? 
mother.  lam " 

"  Our  hearts  have  guessed  it !"  cried  the  twins,  in  a  breath,  and  springing 
to  their  feet,  as  at  the  same  instant  the  planter  also  sprang  to  his.  "You 
are,  yes,  you  are  the  first  born — our  brother!" 

And  they  rushed  towards  to  embrace  him. 

"  Stand  back !"  cried  the  planter,  repelling  with  a  calm  grandeur  which 
was  at  once  heroic  and  sublime.  "  Devoted  to  my  country,  I  cannot  em- 
brace its  enemies ;  devoted  Jo  my  mother,  I  cannot  take  to  my  breast  those 
who  have  forgotten  her !" 

"Great  God!  great  God!"  cried  the  twins,  recoiling  as  if  stricken  by  a 
thunderbolt. 

And  yet  their  anguish,  though  indescribably  frightful,  was  not  a  jot  more 
excruciating  than  the  planter's,  whose  heart  burned  to  take  them  to  nis  arms, 
and  who  yet  dared  not  yield  to  the  desire  lest  it  should  mar  the  great  pur- 
pose he  had  in  view. 

"  You  wear  the  livery  of  a  king  who  outrages  your  country,  as  your  father 
outraged  your  mother!"  he  continued  mournfully.  "You  glory  in  sustain- 
ing a  cowardly  and  unprincipled  monarch,  whose  hands  are  reeking  with  the 
blood  of  a  brave  and  high-principled  people ;  a  people  who  have  suffered  and 


48  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ,    OR    THE    DAYS 

endured  till  suffering  and  endurance  ceased  to  be,  a  virtue,  and  became  a 
festering  reproach.  In  the  ranks  of  these  sufferers  are  the  mother  who  bore 
you  and  the  brother  who  gambolled  with  you  m  the  halcyon  days  of 
your  childhood.  They  have  remained  true  to  the  country  which  you  have 
deserted  to  the  humanity  for  which  you  have  ceased  to  feel,  and  to  the  God 
whom  you  have  ceased  to  love.  Have  you  the  heart,  then,  to  ask  their  love, 
against  whom  you  have  come  as  enemies  ?" 

"Oh,  brother—  brother!"  cried  Frederick,  stretching  forth  his  arms  im- 
ploringly "forgive  us  —  forgive  us!  We  sinned  unknowingly  !" 

"  Oh,  brother  —  brother!"  cried  George,  with  a  countenance  distorted  with 
anguish  and  pale  with  despair,  "be  merciful,  and  not  inflexible!" 

"  And  therefore,"  said  the  planter,  in  a  voice  that  trembled  with  an  emotion 
which  even  his  powerful  will  could  not  wholly  control,  "  the  solemn  need  of 
your  repentance  !" 

"  We  do  repent  !"  cried  Frederick,  falling  on  his  knees,  and  bending  his 
head  on  his  clasped  hands.  "  Forgive  —  forgive  !" 

"  Lowly  and  suppliant."  cried  George,  following  bis  example,  "  we  implore 
you  to  pardon  the  great  error  we  fell  into  without  giving  a  thought  to  its 
enormity.  Forgive  —  forgive!" 

"Not  to  me,  but  to  Him!"  said  the  planter,  pointing  upward  reverently, 
"  kneel  for  pardon  and  for  grace  !" 

"  We  ask  them  of  him  —  we  implore  them  of  you  1"  cried  the  twins,  and 
hot  tears  trickled  down  their  cheeks  and  moistened  their  trembling  hands. 
"  0,  call  us  brothers  !" 

"  Do  you  renounce  your  allegiance  to  the  tyrant  who  oppresses  and  deso- 
lates your  country!" 

"  We  do  —  we  do.     Will  you  not  now  call  us  brothers?" 

"Do  you  renounce  his  livery  and  his  wages  ?" 

"  We  renounce  them  —  we  renounce  them  1     0,  call  us  brothers  now  !" 

"  Do  you  renounce  all  ties  and  all  relations  with  all  who  wear  bis  livery,  all 
who  live  upon  his  bounty  ?  Ah  !  you  are  silent  !  Is  your  repentance  then 
but  feigned  ?" 

"  We  have  friends  among  them  —  dear  friends!" 

"I  understand  you!"  said  the  planter,  mournfully.  "Your  hearts  are 
gone  —  the  daughters  of  the  governor  hold  them!" 

The  twins  were  silent  ;  but  their  features  were  eloquent  with  a  mingled 
expression  of  anguish  and  surprise. 

II  "I  know  all,"  said  Neil  Somers,  in  answer  to  then:  look.  "But  even  them 
you  must  renounce  !" 

The  brothers  groaned  at  this  announcement  :  and  their  countenances  indi- 
cated the  most  hopeless  despair. 

"  In  this  your  hour  of  repentance,"  said  the  planter,,  solemnly,  "  insult 
not  the  Supreme  One,  by  a  regret  based  on  guile  !" 

"  Oh  !  this  is  terrible  !"  cried  the  twins  reroac 


"  Eeflect!"  returned  the  planter.  "  Is  this  love  ye  bear  —  or  think  ye  bear 
—  the  fair  daughters  of  the  governor,  HOLY?  Is  it  not  the  same  love,  and 
founded  on  the  same  lustful  desire  which  marked  your  amours  in  the  land  from 
which  ye  came,  as  well  as  those  in  which  ye  have  indulged  since  your  arri- 
val in  Carolina?  Pause,  ere  you  answer;  pause  —  reflect!" 

The  twin  brothers  groaned,  and  bowed  down  their  heads  in  misery. 

"It  is  notflove!"  said  the  planter,  interpreting  their  silence.  "The  pas- 
sion ye  entertain  is  not  love  ;  for  love  is  a  holy  thing  which  emanates  from 
heaven,  and  purifies  the  hearts  on  which  it  falls  from  every  vestige  of  gross- 
ness  and  sensual  desire.  Such  is  not  the  feeling  with  which  you  regard  the 
fair  daughters  of  the  Governor  !  Banish  it,  then,  as  you  would  a  leprosy  :  it 
is  a  passion  which  makes  man  a  leper,  woman  a  victim." 

"We  banish  it!"  murmured  the  brothers. 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  49 

"  And  wisely.  For  it  \yas  such  a  passion  which  led  one  of  your  friends — 
a  certain  Richard  Winter,  he  is  a  friend  of  yours,  is  he  not  ? — to  beguile  to 
ruin,  shame  and  death  your  only  sister !  Ha !  you  start  and  clench  your 
hands — anger,  shame,  despair  and  vengeance  blaze  in  your  eyes ! — You  feel 
the  leprosy  of  it  now,  because  it  strikes  home — because  it  has  reached  your 
own  family  I  In  her  name — hers,  one  of  its  victims !  I  implore  you  to  ban- 
ish it  from  your  hearts  forever.  Her  broken,  betrayed  and  stricken  spirit 
is  hovering  around  us  now.  and  her  voice  joins  with  mine  in  the  cry — Banish 
desire,  which  is  lust — lust  which  makes  victims!" 

"  We  banish  it!"  cried  the  twins.     "  0  call  us  brothers — call  us  brothers !" 

"Listen,"  said  the  planter,  and  a  shade  of  agony  passed  over  his  brow  in 
his  struggle  to  resist  their  appeal  "My  mother  is  one  of  those  pure,  deli- 
cate beings  who  shudder  at  the  thought  of  taint,  whose  souls  tremble  at 
the  mere  shadow  of  vice.  Your  reputation  in  Charleston  is  that  of  men  of 
the  world,  experienced  in  its  vices  and  familiar  with  its  infamies.  Were  I  to 
take  you  to  our  house,  with  this  reputation  hanging  to  your  backs,  which 
was  also  that  of  your  father,  the  first  knowledge  of  it  would  not  only 
plunge  that  tender  being  into  misery  :  it  would  kill  her !  Gentlemen,"  added 
the  planter,  with  an  expression  at  once  mournful  and  sublime,  "I  have  no 
wish  to  see  my  mother  die !" 

The  twins  fell  on  each  other's  bosom,  and  groaned  as  if  their  hearts  were 
breaking.  This  last  blow  had  crushed  them. 

"  And  yet,"  said  the  planter,  in  a  milder  voice,  as  he  witnessed  their  suf- 
fering, which  was  also  the  picture  of  his  own,  "  if  you  are  sincere  in  your 
repentance,  there  yet  is  hope  for  her,  whose  first  prayer  in  the  morning  and 
whose  last  orison  at  night  is  for  her  twin-born  sons — for  you,  if  ye  indeed 
desire  to  meet  in  a  pure  re-union — for  me,  whose  heart  yearns  to  clasp  ye  in 
a  fraternal  embrace,  though  it  break  in  the  struggle  to  refuse  you  !" 

The  twins  raised  their  heads,  but  not  their  eyes  :  for  a  consciousness  of 
their  utter  unworthiness  prevented  them  from  encountering  the  glance  of 
their  considerate  and  noble-minded  brother. 

"  Ah !     Hope !"  they  murmured. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  planter,  with  emotion.     <;  Hope !" 

"  Oh,  name  it — name  it,  and  save  us  from  despair !" 

"  Labor !"  answered  the  planter.  "  Abandon  for  a  season  the  world  and 
its  vices.  Wash  out,  in  tears  of  a  true  repentance,  every  vestige  of  your  baser 
natures  :  and  erect,  out  of  the  sweat  of  a  virtuous  and  ennobling  labor,  a 
new  reputation — that  of  useful  and  honorable  men.  Thus,  and  thus  only, 
can  you  render  yourselves  worthy  to  meet  that  pure  and  noble  being,  my 
mother  ;  thus,  and  thus  only  can  you  be  prepared  for  and  made  deserving  of 
her  blessing  ;  thus  and  thus  only  can  you  earn  the  privilege  of  calling  her 
mother  ;  thus  and  thus  only  can  you  obtain  from  her  the  words — 'My  son!' 
and  from  me,  '  My  brothers !' '' 

His  auditors  hung  on  every  word  that  issued  from  his  lips  with  the  eager- 
ness and  tenacity  of  drowning  men  clinging  to  straws. 

"  Ye  have  heard  my  proposal,"  said  the  planter  ;  i;  and  I  now  await  your 
reply." 

"  I  accept  it,"  said  Frederick. 

"  And  I,"  added  George,  "  on  two  conditions." 

"  Name  them,''  said  the  planter. 

"  That  we  may  once  in  a  while  see  our  mother,  as  she  sleeps,"  answered 
George,  in  a  voice  broken  with  emotion. 

"  Oh,  my  brother — my  brother !"  cried  Frederick,  falling  on  his  neck. 

"  And  the  other  ?"  demanded  the  planter,  hoarsely. 

"  That  you  will  sometimes  visit  us ;  and  on  such  occasions,  if  you  are 
pleased  with  our  efforts,  allow  us  to  call  you  by  that  endearing  name, 
Brother  /" 

7 


50  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DAYS 

« I  promise!"  answered  the  planter,  who  could  scarcely  -prevent  himself 
from  falling.  "  Are  you  content  ?'' 

"  Yes,"  cried  Frederick. 

«  Yes  "  added  his  brother.     "  Where  will  be*ur  home? 

"  Here  "  answered  the  planter.  "  Yon  lodge  your  cot— these  acres  your 
working  ground.  The  man  Ned,  whom  ye  saw  at  table,  will  be  at  once  your 
instructor  and  assistant ;  a  negro,  named  Mmgo,  will  be  your  valet  and  pur- 
veyor. You  can  rely  on  the  faithfulness  of  both !" 

The  twin  brothers  turned  on  him  a  look  beaming  with  gratitude  and  joy 

"Are  you  satisfied ?"  asked  the  planter. 

They  bowed ;  their  hearts  were  too  full  for  utterance. 

"  Enough.    Kneel  then,  here,  with  me." 

All  dropped  revererentiy  upon  their  knees. 

"  To  Thee !"  said  the  planter,  with  an  air  of  grandeur  and  impressiveness 
which  would  have  become  a  king,  "to  Thee,  we  look  for  strength  to  do  away 
with  the  False,  and  assume  the  garments  of  the  True.  Hear  us !  Here  in 
the  solemn  midnight — beneath  yon  glorious  dome  bright  with  stars  of  silver 
—in  the  light  of  yon  noble  orb  whose  pure  radiance  reflects  Thy  supreme 
power  and  serene  majesty — in  the  calm  silence  of  this  field,  clothed  with  the 
rich  mantle  of  earth's  mother,  Nature — on  this  spot  shut  out  from  a  turbu- 
lent and  impure  world  by  towering  trees,  whose  leafy  murmurs  instead  of 
disturbing,  add  to  the  tranquility  of  the  soul, — we  devote  ourselves,  from  this 
hour,  to  a  new  life  that  will,  we  trust,  prove  acceptable  to  Thee !  In  thy 
name  we  relinquish  the  vices  we  have  clung  to,  in  Thy  name  take  hold  of 
the  good  and  true.  Be  with  us  in  our  new  labors,  Thou !  Shield  us  from 
temptation,  Thou !  Spare  us,  to  a  re-union  with  her,  from  whom  had  we 
never  strayed  we  had  not  been  the  erring  ones  we  are.  Spare  us,  Thou !  Be 
with  us,  Thou  !  Shield  us,  Thou !  And  the  glory  of  our  salvation  shall  be 
ascribed  to  Thee !" 

They  rose,  trembling  in  every  joint ;  the  planter  with  agitation  arising 
from  this  interview  with  two  beings  whom  he  desired  so  much  to  take  to  his 
heart :  the  twins  from  the  mingled  emotions  of  surprise  at  what  they  had 
learned,  admiration  of  the  noble  heart  which  reposed  in  the  breast  of  their 
brother,  and  the  emotions  naturally  following  his  consecration  of  themselves 
to  their  new  career. 

"  Allow  me,  gentlemen,"  said  the  planter,  "  to  offer  you  my  arm  to  the 
house.  "We  are,  individually,  too  weak  to  proceed  thither  alone." 

There  was  a  delicacy  in  the  deli  very  of  this  invitation  which  impressed  the 
twins  with  a  still  deeper  sense  of  the  natural  nobleness  of  the  planter's  soul 

Each  took  an  arm,  gently,  lovingly,  pressing  it  with  all  the  fondness  of  a 
young  bride  leaning  on  her  beloved  :  and  they  proceeded  slowly  to  the  lodge, 
amid  a  silence  which  was  broken  only  by  heart  aching  sighs. 

"  Ere  we  part,"  said  Frederick,  in  a  faltering  voice,  "  bless  u«.  0  bless  as, 
once — only  once !  with  one  word — one  word ! 

"  Cheer  'us,"  added  George.  "  in  this  the  dawn-hour  of  our  repentance. 
Our  hearts — our  hearts  are  bleeding !" 

And  on  the  pale  and  quivering  faces  of  the  twins  there  was  a  shade  of 
frightful  agony. 

" Brothers!  Brothers?'  cried  the  planter,  rushing  from  the  apartment, 
unable  longer  to  endure  it. 

"  Bless  you — bless  you — God  bless  you  I"  cried  the  twins. 

And  thus  passed  the  deeply  solemn  night  into  the  small  still  hours  of 
morning. 


Or    MARION    AND    IIIS    MERRY    MEN.  51 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Early  the  following  morning,  the  planter  and  his  two  friends,  arose,  and 
made  their  appearance  in  the  main  room  of  the  lodge,  where  they  found  the 
man  Ned  and  his  assistant  Mingo  already  preparing  breakfast 

"Where  are  they?"  asked  the  planter,  who  was  somewhat  pale. 

"They  have  not  risen  yet,"  replied  Ned.  "I  went  to  their  room  to  call 
them,  but  they  looked  so  pale  and  woe- worn  that  I  had  not  the  heart  to 
wake  them  !  When  do  you  wish  to  start,  sir  ?" 

"  Immediately,"  answered  the  planter  with  a  slight  degree  of  emotion. 

The  morning  meal  was  soon  ready.  When  it  was  despatched,  the  planter 
went  to  a  small  closet,  and  taking  out  a  blank  volume,  tore  out  a  leaf,  and 
wrote  the  following  note — 

"  I  am  about  to  depart,  and  as  you  are  not  up.  I  am  deprived  of  the  pleas- 
ure of  bidding  you  adieu.  Perhaps  it  is  better,  for  our  mutual  sakes  that  it 
should  be  so,  as  a  parting  interview  could  not  be  otherwise  than  painful. 
Oblige  me  by  keeping  a  journal  of  your  progress  in  the  good  work  on  which 
you  have  now  entered,  the  appliances  for  which  you  will  find  ready  at  your 
hand.  I  will  call  upon  you  'at  least  once  a  month  during  the  term  of  your 
probation.  Should  I  fail  in  these  visits  in  any  one  instance,  it  will  be  be- 
cause I  am  not  in  a  position  to  appear  before  you,  in  which  case  I  will  write. 
Beware  of  the  seducer  and  destroyer  of  your  sister  :  you  know  to  whom  I 
allude.  It  is  not  impossible  that  he  may  discover  your  whereabouts,  in 
which  case  you  might  be  tempted  to  avenge  your  sister;  but  touch  him  not: 
leave  him  to  me.  When  the  destiny  of  our  unhappy  country  is  settled,  I.  by 
virtue  of  my  right  as  the  head  of  our  family  will  caU  him  to  an  account.  Till 
then,  unless  he  come  wilfully  across  my  path,  he  is  safe,  from  hand  of  mine. 
Persevere  in  your  noble  resolution,  and  I  shall  love  you ;  and  when  I  am 
assured  of  the  completeness  of  your  penitence,  that  hour  I  will  lead  you  to 
my  beloved  parent,  and  say  to  her :  Mother,  behold  the  twin-born  ones  for 
whose  presence  you  have  so  long  yearned  ;  they  are  worthy  of  your  embrace 
and  your  love :  take  them  to  your  heart,  as  I  have  already  taken  them  to 
jnine.  That  re-union,  my  friends,  you  cannot  desire  with  more  impatience 
than 

NEIL  SOMERS." 

Having  folded  and  delivered  this  letter,  together  with  some  trifling  instruc- 
tions to  Ned.  the  planter,  the  gentleman  from  St.  Johns,  and  the  scalp  hunter 
mounted  their  horses,  and  took  leave  of  the  forest  lodge. 

As  they  descended  the  hill,  the  planter  related  the  whole  of  the  scene  of 
the  preceding  night,  with  the  exception  of  that  part  of  it  relating  to  Richard 
Winter. 

"  Have  you  no  fears  that  they  will  break  through  their  resolution  ?"  asked 
Marion. 

"  None,  sir,"  returned  the  planter.  "  They  have  passed  their  word,  and  I 
have  every  confidence  in  the  promise  of  a  Somers." 

"  I  trust  that,  everything  will  meet  your  expectations,  my  friend.  But  this 
Richard  Winter;  what  if  he  should  discover  their  retreat?" 

"  It  would  not  be  attended  with  any  danger.  I  have  prepared  them  for 
even  that  emergency." 

"  Upon  my  word !  my  gallant  friend,  I  know  not  what  to  make  of  you. 
But  of  one  thing  I  am  confident— your  country  will  find  in  you  one  of  its 
most  noble  champions ;  and  I  congratulate  myself  on  my  good  fortune  in  get- 
ting you  for  one  of  my  aids.  As  for  you,  Nat,"  he  continued,  turning  to  the 
woodsman,  "  your  fame  as  a  marksman  and  a  man  of  an  acute  mind  is  fa- 


52  THE  s'.vAMr  STEED;  OK  THE  DAYS 

miliar  to  me  I  shall  take  such  measures  as  will  call  into  action  both  of  your 
good  qualities,  with  profit  to  the  country  and  honor  to  yourselves.  But  here 
we  are  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  ;  and  as  I  am  now  in  my  own  district  of 
St  Johns  I  shall  at  once  proceed  home.  You  had  both  better  make  imme- 
diate preparations  for  the  storm  that  is  coming,  and  report  yourselves  to  me, 
on  Wednesday  next,  at  Charleston.  Good  day,  gentlemen." 

And  waving  them  an  adieu,  Marion  gave  rein  to  his  horse,  and  was  soon 

°U"  May  my  old  Sal  never  drop  anuther  yaller  belly !"  exclaimed  the  scalp 
hunter  looking  after  him,  "ef  I  don't  like  our  cap'n!  The- grit  is  in  his 
muscles  and  the  geneyus  in  his  head.  He's  got  the  quietest  ways  with  him ; 
don't  say  a  word  more'n  is  ness'ry,  and  then  slips  off  as  ef  he  hadn't  a  minit 
to  spar.'  Wut  du  yew  think  on  him,  Neil  ?" 

"  I  think,"  returned  the  planter,  "  that  he  is  the  man  for  the  times.  He 
carries  it  in  his  features,  and  in  his  movements.  But  I  must  to  Kingstree : 
for  I  have  much  to  think  of,  and  to  do." 

"  And  I  must  up  tu  my  lodge,  and  git  ready  fur  the  campaign.  '  Good  bye, 
Neil — I'll  see  yew  at  Charleston." 

They  shook  hands,  and  parted ;  and,  each  rilled  with  his  own  thoughts, 
proceeded  on  their  several  destinations. 

In  a  few  hours,  Neil  Somers  rode  thoughtfully  into  Kingstree.  The  village 
presented  an  animated  appearance.  Numbers  of  both  sexes  were  out,  the 
men  looking  thoughtful  and  stern — the  fair,  suspicious  and  pale ;  the  majority 
of  the  former  wore  hangers  at  their  sides,  and  in  many  instances  had  rifles 
over  their  shoulders  or  in  their  hands.  On  the  green  were  numbers  of  chil- 
dren, armed  with  pieces  of  wood,  toy-guns,  and  various  other  implements, 
drilling,  marching  and  countermarching,  like  grown-up  soldiery.  A  martial 
air  was  everywhere  and  around  everything. 

Another  fact  struck  the  planter,  as  he  passed  through  the  village.  It  was 
the  sudden  change  in  the  social  habits  of  the  people.  Men,  who  were  but 
yesterday  friends  and  companions,  passed  each  other  like  strangers  to-day  ; 
and  their  wives,  sharing  in  the  sympathies  of  their  husbands  and  lovers,  fol- 
lowed in  this  respect  the  example  they  had  set 

"  Ah !"  murmured  the  planter,  with  a  mournful  sigh,  "  it  begins  to  work ! 
Brothers  begin  already  to  look  coldly  on  then*  brothers,  fathers  upon  their 
sons,  sons  upon  their  fathers,  and  friends  upon  their  friends  !  By  and  byep 
when  the  work  of  the  Revolution  has  fairly  begun,  brother  will  be  divided 
against  brother,  father  against  son,  friend  against  friend,  by  a  wall  of  blood, 
of  which  each  will  contribute  his  share !  'Tis  frightful  to  ponder  on,  and  yet 
to  that  it  must  come.  Oh,  my  country !  my  country !  is  this  to  be  the  price 
of  thy  freedom,  this  to  be  the  cost  of  thy  glory !" 

And  he  rode  on,  his  brain  aching  and  swelling  with  the  painful  picture  his 
fancy  had  thus  conjured  up  before  him,  while  his  presence  and  appearance 
were  calling  forth  the  attention  and  remarks  of  numbers  of  the  promenaders. 

"  There  goes  the  gallant  hero  of  yesterday,"  said  a  young  farmer,  to  his 
companion,  as  the  planter  passed  up  the  street. 

"  Look  there,  wife,  there's  that  rascally  rebel,  Neil  Somers.  How  thought- 
ful he  looks!" 

"  Yes,  and  you'd  look  thoughtful  too,  old  man,  if  God  had  given  you  a  head 
like  his,  instead  of  the  empty  noddle  you  carry  upon  your  shoulders!"  an- 
swered his  spouse,  in  a  tone  which  silenced  at  once  the  observations  of  the 
old  tory. 

"  There's  young  Somers !"  observed  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy  lawyer,  to 
her  mother.  "  I  do  wish  he'd  turn  this  way.  Don't  you  think  he's  hand- 
some, ma'  ?" 

"  Certainly,  my  dear ;  there  can  be  no  question  about  that.  Mr.  Somera 
is  a  very  charming  young  man ;  and  very  winning,  as  well  Do  you  remem- 


OF  MARION  AND  HIS  MERRY  MEN.  53 

her  what  your  pa',  who  was  quite  carried  away  by  his  speech  on  the  green, 
said  about  him  at,  tea  last  evening  ?" 

"I've  such  a  bad  memory,  ma' !     What  was  it?" 

"  That  he  should  have  been  bred  to  the  bar !  That  was  the  highest  com- 
pliment he  thought  could  be  paid  him ;  and  certainly  nothing  could  have  been 
finer  from  the  lips  of  a  lawyer !" 

"  I  do  wonder  where  he  is  going?"  said  the  young  lady,  looking  after  the 
planter. 

"  He  appears  to  be  going  in  the  direction  of  Mrs.  Brunton's,  my  dear." 
"That  odious  young  widow !     Oh,  ma' !" 

"  She  may  be  odious  to  you,  my  dear ;  but  she  is  certainly  handsome,  and 
very  rich." 

"  Oh,  ma',  how  can  you  say  so  ?" 
"What!  that  she  is  rich  T 

"  No — handsome !     Why,  she  is  twenty-eight,  at  least !" 
"  Nevertheless,  she  is  very  handsome.     Besides,  you  are  a  little  too  spite- 
ful in  your  remarks.     Mrs.  Brunton  is  but  twenty-four,  and  is  generally  ad- 
mitted to  be  very  beautiful." 

"  Do  you  think  she  will  get  him,  ma'  ?" 

"  I  do  believe  you  are  je^alo'us,  my  dear.  You  certainly  can  have  no  claim 
upon  Mr.  Somers!" 

"  I — I  don't  know,  ma' !"  answered  the  little  beauty,  with  a  blush  as  deep 
as  crimson.     "  Stranger  things  than  that  have  happened !" 
"  You  make  me  smile,  my  dear !" 

"  But  you  havn't  answered  my  question !"  persisted  the  pert  beauty.  "  Do 
you  think  she  will  get  him  ?" 

"  I  cannot  say,  my  dear.  I  have  heard  that  Mr.  Somers'  affections  were 
placed  upon  Miss  Winter,  and  that  her  brother  made  some  pretensions  to  the 
widow,  who  however  would  not  accept  him  for  a  suitor." 

"  But,  ma',  Mrs.  Brunton,  does  love  Mr.  Somers ;  she  would  scratch  her 
eyes  out  for  him !" 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it  And  she  will  doubtless  use  every  legitimate  means 
to  achieve  his  conquest  But  I  hope,  my  dear,  you  have  no  serious  intention 
of  entering  the  lists  with  her." 

"Why  not,  ma'?"  demanded  the  little  beauty,  with  an  assurance  that 
brought  a  smile  to  her  mother's  lips. 

"  Because,  she  is  too  experienced.  Widows  are  superior  rivals  in  such 
matters,  my  dear ;  they  know  all  the  weak  points  of  a  lover,  and  when  they 
attack  him,  do  it  with  a  confidence  that  generally  ensures  success.  Until 
you  have  been  married  and  lost  your  husband,  my  dear,  you  must  not  enter 
the  lists  with  so  accomplished  a  widow  aS  Mrs.  Brunton.  But  see ;  I  was 
right  Mr.  Somers  has  really  reined  in  at  the  widow's!" 

It  was  as  she  said.  The  planter  had  pulled  up  at  the  gate  of  a  large  and 
tastily  laid  out  garden,  in  the  centre  of  which  rose  a  large  three  story  cottage, 
with  one  of  those  wide  fronts  and  large  piazzas  so  common  in  the  dwellings 
of  the  opulent  of  that  day.  Giving  his  horse  in  charge  of  a  young  well-dress- 
ed negro,  belonging  to  the  mansion,  the  planter  passed  through  the  gate,  and 
tapping  gently  at  the  door,  was  shortly  after  ushered  into  the  drawing- 
room. 

He  had  scarcely  been  seated,  when  a  light  quick  step  was  heard  in  the  hall ; 
and  in  another  moment,  Mrs.  Brunton,  her  countenance  radiant  with  a  smile 
of  genial  happiness,  made  her  appearance. 

She  was  a  gorgeous  fascinating  creature.  In  form  she  was  of  a  medium 
height,  and  slightly  inclining  to  embonpoint.  Her  features  were  straight  and 
small,  her  eyes  of  a  ripe,  rich,  clear  blue  :  her  complexion  of  a  dazzling  white, 
and  her  thick,  glossy,  ringlet  ty  tresses  of  that  singular  fairness  peculiar  to 
those  of  Saxon  origin.  She  was  dressed  in  a  close-fitting  shape  of  purple 


54  THE    itt'AMP    SFKED  ,'    OK.    THE    DAYS 

velvet  whose  surface  glistened  at  her  every  movement  like  a  flash  of  goldea 
light,  and  whose  beautiful  setting  developed  the  faultless  symmetry  and  pas- 
sion-inspiring outlines  of  her  voluptuous  form. 

She  was,  evidently,  a  creature  of  high  feeling,  and  of  a  liberal  and  capa- 
cious intellect ;  artful  it  might  be,  but  at  the  same  time  of  a  generous,  though 
passionate  nature.  Her  movements  were  easy  and  graceful,  and,  while  full 
of  dignity,' free  as  a  proud  belle's  conscious  of  her- purity  and  beauty. 

As  she  entered,  her  eye  caught  that  of  her  visitor,  and  running  up  to  him 
and  holding  out  both  of*  her  hands,  with  a  genial  heartiness  of  manner,  she 
exclaimed — 

•:  My  dear  Neil,  how  charmed  I  am  to  see  you  !  This  visit  is  a  pleasure 
and  honor  causing  me  inexpressible  delight!  How  have  you  been,  truant  ?" 

"  Well,  well,  my  dear  friend !"  replied  the  planter,  imprinting  a  kiss  on  her 
small,  delicate  hand. 

"  And  my  dear  Mrs.  Somers  ?" 

"Happy  and  tranquil,  as  usual,"  returned  the  planter,  drawing  her  gently 
down  beside  him  on  the  sofa.  "  And  you,  with  whom  I  used  to  gambol  in 
my  boyhood — I  need  not  ask  after  your  health ;  for  the  rose  that  ever  blush- 
ed, blushes  still  upon  your  cheeks ;  the  fairy  air  and  bounding  step,  and  the 
sparkling  eye  which  graced  your  romping  days,'chjig  to  you  still!' 

"Out,  flatterer!"  cried  the  widow,  archly.  "How  long  is  it  since  my  gal- 
lant play  fellow  turned  a  whisperer  of  loving  periods  ?  What !  do  you  still 
remember  our  strolls  amid  the  fields,  our  rides  far  up  the  hills,  and  our 
romps  in  the  murmuring  woods  ?" 

"  And  our  sails  upon  the  lake !"  said  the  planter. 

"Ah!  you  do  remember  them!     And   then   our   bird-nesting    in    the 


'And  our  rambles  through  the  dells,"  continued  Somers,  in  the  same 
genial  tone. 

"And  our  flower-hunts  in  the  wilds!"  cried  the  lovely  widow,  as  the 
drawing-room  rang  with  the  music  of  her  laughter. 

"Ah,  lady!"  said  the  planter,  "you  are  one  of  nature's  choicest  pets — 
always  merry,  gentle,  happy,  and — must  I  say  it — fascinating !" 

"Thank  you  for  nothing!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brunton,  with  a  charming 
pout ;  "  how  long  is  it  since  I  became  '  lady  ?'  In  our  younger  days,  you 
used  to  call  me  '  Laura !'  " 

"  Ah !  you  chide  cruelly,  now !  Will  you  not  let  your  old  play  fellow 
fall  back  on  the  only  entrenchment  left  to  shield  him  from  the  murderous 
fire  of  those  blue  eyes  ?  Think  of  the  hazard  to  this  heart  of  my  calling 
you  by  a  name  familiar !  Have  you  no  mercy  ?" 

"  Have  done,  hypocrite — do !"  'cried  the  bewitching  creature,  -who  would 
at  that  moment  have  pawned  her  very  soul  could  she  have  believed  he  spoke 
as  a  lover,  and  not  as  a  gallant  friend.  "  Do  you  know,  Neil,"  she  added, 
"  you  have  been  the  town  talk  since  yesterday  ?" 

"  Ah !"  returned  the  planter,  shaking  his  head,  playfully ;  "  the  town  is 
famous  for  its  prattle ;  and  my  name  must,  like  everybody's  else,  be  mixed 
up  in  the  scandal,  and  handled  in  its  turn !  What  does  the  town  say?" 

"  Oh,"  cried  the  widow  with  a  mischievous  air,  "  I  shall  not  tell  you  with- 
out a  fee." 

"  Bravo !     Tell  me  then,  pretty  trafficker,  your  price." 

"  Will  you  pay?" 

"  Promptly  as  an  honest  debtor,  when  he  has  the  means !" 

"  Very  good ;  then  my  fee  is — call  me  in  future  by  my  name,  and  not  by 
my  position !" 

"Mrs.  Brun— " 

"No,"  cried  the  lively  creature,  interrupting  him,  "Laura!" 

"  Here  it  is,  then,"  said  the  planter,  lifting  her  hand  to  his  lips,  "  Laura  I" 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MEERY    MEN.  55 

"  See  that  you  don't  get  in  debt  in  future  1"  returned  the  widow,  shaking 
ner  finger  at  him  playfully. 

"  I'll  look  out  for  that !  Now,  then,  tell  me,  enchantress,  what  they  say 
of  me  in  the  town." 

"  They  bay,"  said  the  fail-  syren,  "  that  you  are  the  man  of  Carolina — " 

The  planter  blushed ;  and  his  eyes  fell  before  those  of  his  companion. 

'•  That  in  the  storm  now  rising,  you  will  be  the  eagle  whose  bold  pinions 
will  lift  your  country's  banner  triumphantly  above  the  smoke  and  din  of 
battle—  " 

The  planter  shook  his  head,  without  raising  it. 

"  That  yours  is  the  voice  will  raise  hearts  that  may  droop,  yours  the  lipg 
will  shed  light  through  their  darkness,  joy  through  their  gloom —  '' 

"  Stay,"  said  Somers,  imploringly,  "  stay,  la 

The  widow  lifted  her  fmger,  archly. 

"  Laura,  I  care  not  for  the  opinions  of  the  town,"  he  continued,  recover- 
ing himself.  "The  truth  is,  it  attaches  too  much  importance  to  one  who  is. 
in  the  face  of  all  its  praises,  but  a  mere  unit  in  the  family  of  patriots.  Tell 
me,  Laura,  has  Richard  Winter  been  seen  in  town  to  day  ?" 

"  Yes ;  he  appeared,  very  early  this  morning,  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of 
horse,  at  the  Palmetto.  You  can  guess  why  ?" 

"  To  retake  my  two  prisoners  ?" 

1;  Yes.  They  say  that  he  nearly  tore  the  inn  to  pieces,  on  discovering 
that  he  was  anticipated.  He  accused  the  landlord  of  collusion,  felled  him  to 
the  floor,  and  injured  him  so  severely  that  his  life  was  at  first  despaired  of 

"  I  am  sorry  for  him.  But,  unfortunately,  we  live  hi  times  when  broken 
heads  and  bruised  bones  appear  to  be  man's  natural  heritage.  And  on  this 
score,  Laura,  I  wish  to  converse  with  you,  as  a  gentleman  may  converse 
with  a  lady  whom  he  esteems,  as  a  friend  may  converse  with  a  friend  in. 
whom  he  has  confidence.  But,  I  warn  you  it  is  a  delicate  subject,  and  one 
whose  very  nature  is  significant  of  the  very  high  regard  I  entertain  for 
you !" 

Mrs  Brunton's  heart  throbbed  violently,  and  a  pleasure  she  could  not  stifle, 
made  her  naturally  bright  eyes  sparkle  with  unusual  brilliancy. 

"  Am  I  then  to  be  so  happy  ?"  she  murmured,  to  herself.  "  Is  it  his  hand 
he  is  about  to  offer  me  ? — oh,  happinesss  unspeakable  !  'Tis  an  Eden  I  am 
to  enter  j  'tis  the  confession  of  his  love  I  am  about  to  hear !  0  !  happiness — 
happiness !" 

So  great,  so  nearly  overpowering,  was  the  picture  her  passionate  fancy  had 
created,  she  could  scarcely  retain  her  self-possession. 

"  Hear  me,  Laura,"  began  the  planter,  who  attributed  her  joyous  air  to  the 
happiness  it  gave  her  as  his  friend  to  be  worthy  of  his  confidence,  and  to 
have  the  ability  to  serve  him.  •'  The  storm  now  gathering  will  be  a  fearful 
one,  and  one  which  will  sweep  many  a  stout  and  sturdy  man  from  compe- 
tence to  beggary,  from  safety  down  to  peril,  from  peril  down  to  death." 

"I  can  readily  comprehend  that,  Neil,"  said  Mrs.  Brunton,  who  was  puz- 
zled to  understand  how  such  a  prologue  could  possibly  precede  the  comedy 
of  a  declaration. 

"  Men,"  continued  the  planter,  with  the  air,  though  unwittingly,  of  a  man 
who  had  come  to  his  conclusions  by  deep  searchings  and  long  ponderings 
upon  his  subject,  "  will  array  themselves  one  against  the  other,  in  the  coun- 
cils of  state  as  in  the  conflict  on  the  field  ;  and  of  the  two  parties  thus  form- 
ed, the  one  will  be  in  power  to-day  :  the  other,  on  the  morrow.  It  appears, 
then,  clearly  evident  to  me  that  many  a  private  hatred  now  existing  among  the 
men  composing  these  two  parties,  will  be  carried  into  this  contest,  and — euch 
is  human  nature — there  gratified  by  such  weapons  as  power  will  throw  into 
their  hands.  The  tory  of  to-day  will  be  in  possession  of  the  government  to- 
morrow, and,  carrying  his  private  animosity  with  him,  will  use  the  political 


56  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

sword  in  his  hand,  to  cut  off  the  private  fortunes  of  his  rebel  enemy's,,  by  get- 
tine  his  estate  confiscated  for  his  treason.  So,  on  the  other  hand,  when  in 
his  turn  the  rebel  mounts  to  power,  he  will  make  his  private  tory  foe  suffer 
doubly  in  his  defeat,  by  declaring  his  property  forfeited  to  tho  common  weal 
for  his  adherence  to  the  king." 

"  I  think  I  understand  now,  Neil,  the  point  at  which  you  are  driving," 
said  Mrs.  Brunton,  with  a  sigh. 

And  the  sparkle  fled  slowly  from  her  eye,  and  the  color  from  her  cheek, 
and  her  heart  grew  chilly,  desolate  and  hard,  for  the  thought  which  had 
made  her  for  a  few  brief  moments  happy,  had  glided  off,  and  was  succeeded 
by  a  black  ugly,  cloud. 

She  listened,  with  the  smile  still  on  her  lips,  but  with  an  inexpressive  eye 
which  was  the  index  of  her  soul. 

"  Go  on,  Neil,"  she  said  ;  and  she  was  conscious  that,  as  on  her  heart,  a 
change  had  come  over  the  cadences  of  her  voice. 

"And  therefore,"  continued  Somers,  "I  have  thought  I  owed  it  to  a  dear 
and  tender  mother,  to  provide  for  an  emergency  which  might,  for  all  that  I 
could  say  or  do,  throw  her  helpless  and  a  beggar  on  the  world.     Every  man 
has  more  or  less  enemies  ;  I  have  mine,  and  the  course  I  have  marked  out 
for  the  contest  that  is  coming  will  make  me  many  more.     I  am  willing  to  pay 
suoh  penalties  as  my  own  conduct  may  provoke  ;  but  I  am  not  willing  that 
my  dear  and  only  parent  should  suffer  for  any  act  of  mine." 
"  That  is  commendable,  Neil ;  that  is  noble !" 
Somers  bowed,  and  went  on. 

"It  is  this,  Laura,  which  brings  me  here  to-day  ;  it  is  this  which  inspires 
me  to  open  my  heart  in  confidence  to  you,  and  to  ask  of  you  a  favor." 

Colder  and  colder,  harder  and  harder  waxed  the  heart  of  the  impetuous 
widow.  It  was  not  to  her  charms  that  she  was  indebted  for  his  visit ;  it  was 
not  even  to  courtesy,  nay,  nor  to  common  friendship — it  was  business,  which 
brought  him  to  her  house :  cold,  stern,  unfeeling  business.  Her  heart  was  not 
only  cold  and  hard — it  began  even  to  grow  black ! 
"Go  on,  Neil,"  she  said. 

Her  voice  was  clear  and  musical  as  ever,  but  not  tinged  with  the  slightest 
accent  of  feeling. 

"Men  who  take  an  active  part  in  this  contest,  and  I  will  be  one  of  them," 
continued  the  planter,  not  noticing,  because  not  looking  for  nor  understand- 
ing the  cause  of  any  change  in  his  companion's  manner,  "  will  be  marked  the 
first,  punished  the  earliest.  Persons  in  your  position,  Laura,  will  of  course 
be  exempt  from  all  troubles  and  annoyances  of  this  kind,  and  therefore 
it  is  I  have  come  to  you  to  shield  my  mother's  property  from  danger,  by 
transferring  it  over  to  you,  and  making  it  appear  yours,  till  the  storm  is  over 
and  all  fears  of  further  danger  at  an  end." 

"  How  do  you  wish  this  done  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Brunton,  calmly.  "  Unless 
there  be  a  sale  of  the  estate  drawn  up  and  conveyed  in  due  form,  the  fraud 
would  be  detected." 

The  planter  looked  up  at  her  in  surprise.     He  did  not  understand  how 
she  could  have  used  the   offensive  word  we  have  italicised,  unless  through 
premeditated  malice,  which  he  could  not  for  a  moment  credit,  or  else  through 
a  want  of  knowledge  of  terms,    an   idea  which  he  felt   satisfied  must  be 
correct  as  the  calm  and  innocent  glance  of  his  companion  met  his  own.     Not 
willing  that  she  should  comprehend  his  first  suspicion,  he  replied : 
"  That,  Laura,  is  the  favor  I  have  come  to  ask  at  your  hands." 
"  To  purchase  your  mother's  property  ?" 

"Yes,— and  to  make  it  perfectly  safe,  in  case  death  should  overtake  her  and 
me,  to  buy  it  at  one-half  its  actual  worth." 

The  widcw  saw  in  an  instant,  in  the  delicacy  of  this  blow,  that  she  was 
understood  ;  and,  as,  notwithstanding  her  struggle  to  repress  it.  a  tell-tale 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS   MERRY    MEN.  57 

blush  mounted  slowly  to  her  brow,  she  made  an  effort  *o  lead  him  to  the 
conviction  that  his  suspicion  was  wholly  based  on  error. 

"  That  would  indeed  blind  them,"  she  said,  with  a  forced  smile,  "  and  make 
everything  safe  for  your  mother.  But  I  will  not  consent  to  it ! ' 

"  No  ?"  said  the  planter,  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

'  No,  Neil,  not  for  a  moment.  You  appear  to  have  made  provision  fir 
everything  but  one — and  that  you  have  entirely  neglected  !" 

"Your  refusal,  Laura?"  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  with  a  calmness  that  staggered  him,  "  and  one  thing 
else!" 

"  And  that  is  — " 

"That  something  might  happen  to  me  !  I  might  die!" 

"You,  Laura — you  die!" 

"I!     Would  there  be  anything  strange  in  that?" 

"  There  would !  You  are  endowed  with  attributes  which  give  health  to 
their  possessor  and  lead  her  to  a  green  old  age — your  buoyant  spirits,  happy 
heart  and  guileless  nature!" 

This  was  a  second  blow,  and  quite  as  artfully  interwoven  in  his  reply,  as 
the  '  fraud '  was  in  her  question. 

"I  might  die,"  she  replied,  without  evincing  the  slightest  consciousness  of 
his  double  meaning ;  "  and  my  heirs  might  not  feel  disposed  to  do  you  justice ; 
in  which  case,  Neil,"  she  added  with  a  tenderness  that  was  not  all  assumed, 
"  could  I  rest  quietly  in  my  grave  ?" 

"  True,"  observed  Somers,  whose  suspicion  was  fast  vanishing  ;  "  that 
was  an  emergency  which,  it  must  be  confessed,  I  never  took  into  considera- 
tion. And  it  is  no  marvel  either:  for  who,  looking  at  you,  the  ideal  of  youth 
and  loveliness  and  health,  would  dream  that  any  other  future  was  before  you 
than  one  of  unalloyed  happiness — a  vista  of  bright  flowers  on  a  plain  where 
reigns  perpetual  spring." 

"  Ah,  Neil,  it  is  not  age  alone  that  sweeps  us  from  these  shores  to  those  of 
the  Beyond.  Hearts  sometimes  fall  and  wither,  even  while  their  trunks  are 
full  of  youth  and  vigor !" 

"That  is  easily  true  !"  said  the  planter,  now  awakened  for  the  first  time  to 
the  fact  that  his  companion  was  the  victim  of  an  unreturned  attachment,  but 
not  dreaming  for  one  moment  that  himself  was  its  object 

"  'Tis  said  that  Winter  visits  her,"  he  murmured.  "  Can  it  be  she  loves 
him,  and  without  hope  ?  Or  does  he  dally  with  her,  as  he  did  with  my 
sister — playing  at  one  and  the  same  time  the  two  characters  of  trifler  and 
seducer  ?" 

It  was  a  delicate  subject,  one  in  which  he  could  not,  as  a  gentlemen,  take 
any  other  part  than  that  of  a  listener.  If  she  felt  disposed  to  make  him  a 
confidant,  he  could  not,  he  thought,  do  less  than  listen,  and  if  she  asked  it, 
advise.  But  it  would — thus  he  argued  with  himself— be  indelicate  to  ask  an 
explanation  of  her  meaning,  or  appear  to  understand  that  anything  further 
was  implied  in  her  words  than  that  of  a  passing  observation.  He  therefore 
remained  mute,  while  he  gave  to  his  features  an  air  of  the  most  profound  im- 
passibility. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  he  does  not  understand  me !"  thought  the  widow. 
"  Or  is  it  that  he  will  not  ?  Oh,  the  curse  of  custom  !  which  will  not  permit 
a  woman  to  lay  open  her  heart  except  by  rude  hints  which  may  not  be  un- 
derstood, and  glances  which  may  not  be  interpreted  aright !" 

She  saw  however  the  necessity  of  banishing  the  last  vestige  of  suspicion 
from  his  mind,  and  of  convincing  him  that  nothing  meanly  selfish  was  in  her 
thoughts  or  disposition  at  the  moment  of  her  refusal. 

"But  I  have  thought  of  a  plan,  Neil,"  she  resumed,  with  one  of  her  most 
fascinating  smiles,  and  in  a  tone  replete  with  tenderness,  "  by  which  you  can 
be  saved  From  the  danger  you  so  justly  fear  from  your  tory  enemies,  from  all' 

8 


58  TH2    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

peril  that  might  possibly  arise  from  my  heirs  in  case  I  should  die,  as  well  as 
exclude  from  the  eyes  of  the  law  the  possibility  of  an  idea  of  a  collusion?" 

"Ah?"  said  the  planter,  inquiringly.  "  It  must  be  a  stroke  of  genius  then, 
Laura." 

"  And  yet  a  very  simple  one,  Neil,"  said  Mrs.  Brunton.  "  It  is  this — let 
me  buy  your  plantation  at  its  full  value !  Let  what  will  happen  then,  no 
danger  can  come  to  you  or  yours.  Should  I  live,  you  know  you  can  regain 
it  at  a  moment's  warning  ;  should  I  die,  my  heirs  would  be  glad  to  dispose 
of  it  at  its  value.  Meanwhile,  you  have  the  use  of  the  purchase  money,  with- 
out interest,  or  any  claim  of  mine  or  those  who  may  follow  me !" 

"You  are  a  glorious  girl,  Laura!"  cried  the  planter  with  an  outburst  of 
feeling  which  proclaimed  that  not  a  shadow  of  suspicion  rested  longer  in  his 
mind.  "  You  should  have  been  born  to  a  throne,  for  you  are  the  royalest  of 
queens  in  heart  and  soul !  Now  I  understand  the  cause  of  your  refusal.  It 
was  to  crush  me  with  a  generosity  as  unlocked  for  as  it  is  noble !" 

"Ah!"  murmured  the  fair  widow,  "would  that  I  could  but  overwhelm 
him  with  love  I  What  bliss,  then,  what  Eden  would  compare  with  mine !" 

"  I  will  not  insult  your  feelings,  Laura,  by  declining  your  generous  offer. 
Yes,  I  will  accept  it  for  my  mother's  sake  and  yours !" 

He  might  have  added  for  his  country's  ;  for  it  was  in  reality  for  it  that  he 
wished  the  money  :  there  being  at  home  quite  enough  to  amply  provide  for 
the  household,  let  what  might  arise. 

"  'Tis  well,  Neil.  And  now  let  me  assure  you  that  I  regard  it  as  one  of  the 
happiest  moments  in  my  existence  to  possess  the  ability  to  do  you  even  so 
slight  a  favor." 

"  I  believe  it,  Laura,  I  believe  it !  I  shall  henceforth  pray  for  you  as  my 
mother's  guardian  angel !" 

"  Would  I  were  yours !"  murmured  his  companion.  "  When  do  you  wish 
this  affair  ratified,  Neil  ?"  she  added,  aloud. 

"  As  soon  as  you  can  make  it  convenient :  for  in  truth,  Laura,  I  have  much 
to  do,  and  but  little  time  to  do  it  in." 

"Say  to-morrow,  then?" 

"  I  will.     At  what  hour  ?" 

"Name  it  yourself,  Neil." 

"  What  if  I  make  it  ten?" 

"  It  will  please  me  very  weL" 

"  So  be  it  then.  I'll  bring  my  mother  down,  and  be  in  Kingstree  with 
her  at  that  hour." 

"  Where  shall  we  meet  ?" 

"  Here,  if  it  please  you." 

"Nothing  would  please  me  better.  I  will  send  a  messenger  for  Mr. 
Sprague,  my  lawyer,  and  bid  him  be  in  readiness.' 

"  Thank  you,  Laura,  my  more  than  friend — my  sister !"  said  the  planter, 
raising  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

"  Your  sister !"  murmured  the  widow.  "  I  will  be  nearer  yet  than  that — 
your  wife !  if  this  brain  can  bring  it  about !" 

"  Adieu,  Laura !    I  must  be  on  my  way,"  said  the  planter,  rising. 

"  What,  Neil — so  soon  ?"    said  Mrs.  Brunton,  with  a  smile  of  ineffable 


"  Pardon  me,  Laura,  but  every  moment  is  precious — for  my  time  now  is 
not  my  own,  but  my  country's !" 

"  Go,  then  Neil !  returned  the  lady,  with  a  gush  of  admiration.  "  Let 
me  not  detain  you  a  moment  from  a  cause  so  holy.  Go,  Neil ;  and  bear  this 
ever  in  your  memory :  daily  and  nightly  Laura  Brunton  wiH  pray  fervently 
for  your  welfare !" 

She  dropped  her  eyes  and  a  graceful  courtesy ;  and  the  planter,  with  a  dig- 
nified reverence,  quitted  the  drawing-room,  murmuring : 


OF    MARION     AND    U:S     MERKV    MEN.  59  ' 

"  A  moment  more  in  her  fascinating  presence,  and  I  were  lost !  A  moment 
more,  and  Amy,  myself,  and  all  the  world  were  forgot !" 

Mrs.  Brunton  witnessed  his  departure  from  a  window,  aad  never  turned 
.away  from  the  blinds  till  he  had  disappeared. 

"I  will  yet  be  yours,  Neil!"  she  murmured;  "yours — yours  only  I  Not 
siM  the  world  shall  stop  it.  Yours  or  death's !" 

She  paced  the  room,  deeply  agitated ;  her  heart  beating  wildly,  and  her 
temples  throbbing  as  if  they  would  burst. 

"  Is  it  then,  after  all,  so  difficult  a  task  to  win  him  ?  I  have  triumphed  in 
banishing  the  last  particle  of  suspicion  from  his  mind ;  why  should  I  not 
hope,  at  least,  for  a  similar  success  in  driving  Amy  Winter  from  his  bosom 
and  planting  my  image  there  ?  What  though  Amy  be  my  friend  ?  Friend  ? 
In  love,  as  in  war,  there's  no  such  thing  as  friendship,  unless  it  be  on  our  side, 
which  Amy  is  not.  Love  knows  no  friends,  save  those  who  aid  it  in  its  con- 
quest of  the  heart  for  which  it  bleeds.  Amy  is  my  rival,  and  therefore  not 
my  friend,  but  my  foe.  We  are  in  the  field,  one  against  the  other,  and  each 
contending  for  the  same  prize.  Her  heart  is  fixed  on  him,  yearns  for  him, 
but  not  with  half  the  intensity  of  mine.  Mine  therefore  is  the  greater  claim : 
and  if  it  be  within  human  scope  to  win  him,  mine  shall  be  the  heart  he'll 
press  against  his  own,  mine  the  hand  he'll  hold  in  his  at  the  altar  !  All's  fair 
in  love.  Let  her  who  can  achieve  the  victor's  laurel !" 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

On  quitting  Mrs.  Brunton's  Neil  Somers  turned  off  from  the  village,  and 
struck  homeward.  His  plantation  was  situated  about  two  miles  from  Kings- 
tree,  a  distance  which  his  gallant  steed  soon  accomplished. 

At  the  gate  of  the  lawn  facing  the  cottage,  stood  Mrs.  Somers,  anxiously 
waiting  her  son's  arrival.  She  was  a  lady  of  about  three  and  forty,  with  a 
very  matronly  appearance.  Her  features  were  small  and  delicate,  and  her 
general  air  that  of  a  gentle-hearted  and  pure-minded  being.  She  was  dressed 
in  a  neat  dark  frock,  and  a  cap,  whose  snowy  folds  seemed  scarcely  whiter 
than  her  own  calm  brow  and  pale  cheeks. 

"  Neil,  my  love,"  said  she,  in  a  tone  of  great  affection,  as  he  dismounted 
and  entered  the  lawn,  "  I  have  been  so  uneasy.  What  news  have  you  ?" 

"  The  best,  mother.  Mrs.  Brunton  has  agreed  to  take  the  plantation  at  its 
full  value." 

"  I  don't  mean  that,  my  dear.  Has  no  one  attempted  to  use  violence — I — 
I — really,  Neil,  I  am  so  nervous  that  I  can  scarcely  speak." 

"  Take  my  arm,  mother,"  said  the  planter,  with  air  of  deep  respect  and 
strong  filial  love,  "  and  let  us  proceed  to  the  house.  What  has  happened  ?" 
he  added,  as  they  seated  themselves  on  the  piazza. 

"  Mr.  Abel* Winter  was  here,  but  a  little  while  since,  and  he  quite  alarmed 
me." 

"  Did  he  dare  to  insult  you,  mother  ?" 

"  No,  my  dear.  He  told  me  that  warrants  were  out  against  you,  for  your 
conduct  yesterday  tat  the  village,  and  that  you  could  not  avoid  arrest  He 
mentioned  it  to  me  as  a  friend." 

"  Fear  not,  mother.  The  rebels  are  too  strong  in  this  district  f>r  the  royal 
officers  to  lay  hands  on  any  of  their  number." 

"  I  told  him  so :  but  he  persisted  in  stating  that  there  was  no  safety  for  you 
except  in  immediate  flight  He  added  that,  in  case  you  were  taken,  nothing 
an  eartii  could  save  you." 


gQ  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DATS 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  to  Mr.  Winter  for  his  anxiety  in  my  welfare! 
When  did  he  say  I  was  likely  to  be  taken  ?" 

"  Immediately.     The  officers,  he  said,  were  now  m  search  of  you. 

"  I  passed  some  on  the  road ;  but  they  made  no  attempt  to  take  me.  The 
fact  is  my  dear  mother,  the  country  is  at  present  too  unsettled  for  the  crown 
to  show  its  power.  Be  tranquil ;  they  will  not  arrest  me.  But  you  have 
other  news  for  me,  mother  have  you  not  ?  I  can  read  it  in  your  manner." 

"  Yes ''  answered  Mrs.  Somers,  sorrowfully.  "  But  do  not  way  give  to  it ! 
Here  it  is,"  and  she  drew  a  letter  from  her  bosom.  "  Mr.  Winter  gave  it  to 
me  verbally  ;  but  I  told  him  I  had  not  the  heart  to  do  deli ver  it,  and  he  then 
sat  down  and  penned  it." 

Neil  opened  the  letter  calmly,  and  read  as  follows : — 

"  Mr.  Somers. — Tour  conduct  at  Kingstree,  by  which  you  placed  yourself 
in  opposition  to  the  crown,  has  cut  you  off  from  the  friendship  and  sympathy 
of  all  true  subjects  of  the  king.  It  is  perhaps  unnecessary  for  me  to  add  that 
I  cannot,  as  a  good  and  loyal  citizen,  permit  any  further  intimacy  between 
my  family  and  yours,  and  especially  between  my  daughter  Amy  and  your- 
self. Tour  own  good  sense  will  teach  you  that  I  cannot  allow  my  reputation 
as  a  sound  loyalist  to  be  brought  into  suspicion  by  encouraging  the  visits  of 
one  who  is  in  the  position  of  a  rebel.  With  sentiments  of  the  highest  respect, 
I  remain,  sir,  Tours,  &c.> 

•    ABEL  WINTER." 

After  having  read  this  letter  a  second  time,  Neil  tore  it  carefully  into  a 
thousand  fragments,  which  he  threw  to  the  winds. 

"  Why  do  you  use  his  note  in  that  way,  my  love  ?"  asked  his  mother  in  a 
tone  of  tender  reproach.  "  Mr.  Winter  has  always  treated  us  with  the  high- 
est consideration." 

"Very  true,  mother.  I  use  it  thus  to  prevent  it  from  ever  appearing 
against  him,  in  case  anything  should  happen  to  me.  Reflect !  it  might  in- 
jure him  should  it  ever  be  known  he  had  corresponded  with  a  rebel,  no 
matter  what  the  pretext" 

"  Tou  are  always  nobly  considerate,  my  dear  Neil,"  said  his  mother,  fondly. 
"  But  you  are  pale,  my  dear  !" 

"  'Tis  nothing,  mother.  These  things  should  be  looked  for !  Have  you 
seen  her  of  late  ?" 

"  Tes,  my  dear.     She  was  here  this  morning." 

"  In  smiles  ?"  continued  the  planter,  in  a  voice  half  made  up  of  bitterness. 

"  No,  in  tears.  Her  father  had  said  to  her — '  See  him  no  more — forget 
him !' " 

"And  she?" 

"  Amy  is  a  good  and  dutiful  daughter,  my  son,  and  worthy  of  your  highest 
esteem !"  answered  Mrs.  Somers,  with  an  air  of  great  tenderness. 

"  I  understand  you,  mother.     She  will  obey  him  ?" 

"  To  the  best  of  her  ability — yes !" 

"  She  will  see  me  no  more  ?" 

"  No  more.     Her  father  has  commanded  her !"  • 

The  planter  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  Oh,  my  son !  my  son !"  cried  his  parent,  drawing  towards  him,  tenderly, 
"  I  can  appreciate  and  sympathize  with  you  in  your  agony.  But,  0 !  don't 
let  it  tear  you  thus  silently.  Weep,  weep,  Neil — let  your  heart  relieve  ita 
anguish  in  tears,  or  it  will  break.  Weep,  weep,  Neil,  weep !" 

But  the  planter  was  silent ;  not  even  a  sigh  escaped  him.  A  few  vibra- 
tions of  the  muscles  alone  told  of  the  frightful  agony  wrenching  his  power- 
ful spirit. 

Mrs.  Somers  trembled  as  she  beheld  her  sou's  deep  grief.  She  was  in  the 
utmost  distress. 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  01 

'•'Be  tranquil,  my  son!"  she  exclaimed.  "Amy  loves  you;  her  heart  is 
yours.  She  cannot  take  it  away,  she  cannot  forget  you,  and  would  not  if 
she  could.  She  loves  you ;  and  if  her  hand  be  not  yours,  it  will  never  be 
another's.  She  bade  me  tell  you  that,  to  soften  the  cruelty  of  her  father's 
blow.  Don't  let  it  affect  you  so  terribly,  my  dear.  Neil !  Neil !  your  agony 
wrings  my  heart !" 

As  she  spoke,  she  fell,  with  a  shower  of  tears  upon  his  neck ;  and  there 

At  length,  the  young  man  took  his  hands  from  his  face,  and  looking  up- 
ward, for  a  moment,  said,  with  a  voice  that  came  up  from  the  lowest  depths 
of  his  soul — 

"  His  will  be  done  !" 

And  he  bowed  bis  head,  reverently. 

These  few  moments  of  love's  anguish  had  altered  him  frightfully.  TTig 
pale  countenance  \^&  at  least  ten  years  older  than  before. 

Mr§.  Somers  became  seriously  alarmed  for  her  sou. 

"Oh,  Neil — Neill"  she  cried,  wringing  her  hands,  "my  heart  bleeds  for 
you !" 

The  planter  looked  up  and  took  her  hand,  mournfully. 

"  Mother !"  he  said,  in  a  voice  which  she  scarcely  recognized,  ''  let  us 
apeak  of  this — of  her — no  more !" 


CHAPTER    IX. 

AT  the  time  appointed,  Neil  Somers  made  his  appearance  at  the  rendez- 
vous in  Charleston.  He  found  the  city  in  a  state  of  great  commotion.  The 
royal  officers  were  nowhere  to  be  seen ;  whereas  the  rebels  were  visible 
everywhere. 

The  planter  had  scarcely  arrived,,  when  Nat  the  woodsman  joined  him. 

"  Hello  !  Neil,  how  air  yew  ?     When  did  yew  cum  down  tu  town  ?" 

"  But  now.     I  have  not  been  here  ten  minutes." 

"  Du  tell !  I've  been  here  fur  an  hour  or  more,  and  been  looking  raound. 
They  du  say  things  look  as  ef  the  Britishers  had  an  idee  of  tryin'  our  mettle. 
They're  in  sight ! 

"  Who  ?" 

"  The  red  coats,  'way  out  thar' !"  And  he  pointed  seaward.  "  A  hull 
fleet  on  'em.  They've  been  tryin1  to  get  in  for  a  good  many  days,  but  they 
aint  able  to  git  cross  the  bar !  Calms,  contrary  winds,  and  sech  things  wunt 
let  'em  in !" 

"  That  then  accounts  for  the  agitation  of  the  people.  But  where  can  our 
man  be  ?" 

"  Over  tfiere,  most  like,"  answered  the  woodsman,  pointing  to  a  rough  for- 
tification on  a  small  island  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir  I"  said  a  fisherman,  approaching  them,  and  touching  his 
hat  respectfully ;  "ar n't  your  name  Somers?" 

"  Yes,  friend.     What  then  ?" 

"And  yours, "continued  the  fisherman,  turning  to  the  scalp  hunter,  "is 
Akerman,  arn't  it?" 

"Wot  dews  that  argify?"  demanded  the  woodsman. 

"  This !"  answered  the  fisherman.  "  You  've  come  here  for  Captain  Marion, 
who  is,  unexpectedly,  over  there  in  Fort  Sullivan,  and  where  he  bade  me 
conduct  you." 

"  We  are  at  your  disposal,"  said  the  planters 


62  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DAYS 

"  Then  follow  me,"  said  the  mail,  who  led  the  way  to  the  river  side,  where 
a  ton"  narrow  barge,  with  six  stout  rowers,  was  in  waiting. 

The  planter  and  woodsman  stepped  aboard  and  seated  themselves  astern ; 
and  in  another  moment,  they  were  pulling  away  from  the  city,  which,  as 
they  drew  out  into  the  stream,  appeared  to  be  laboring  under  a  spirit  of  un- 
usual restlessness  and  activity. 

They  reached  Sullivan's  Island  in  the  course  of  an  hour,  and  springing 
ashore,  followed  the  fisherman  up  to  the  fort,  which  they  found  preparing 
eagerly  for  battle. 

The  fort  was  a  large  square,  with  a  bastion  at  each  angle.  It  was  built  of 
logs  laid  one  upon  another,  the  spaces  between  being  filled  with  sand.  The 
logs  were  of  palmetto  wood,  a  very  spungy  tree,  which  receives  and  retains 
a  buEet  or  cannon  ball  without  making  an  extended  fracture  or  injuring  the 
adjacent  parts.  The  utmost  activity  prevailed ;  the  men  were  engaged  in 
arranging  the  guns  and  extending  the  fort,  which  was  scarcely  half  finished. 

"  Whar  is  Captain  Marion  ?"  asked  the  planter  of  the  fisherman. 

"There,"  said  the  latter,  pointing  to  a  group  of  officers  near  the  flag-staff. 
"  The  smallest  man  in  that  party  of -four.  Follow  me." 

And  he  led  the  way  toward  the  grou-p,  one  of  whom  advanced  to  meet 
them  as  they  approached.  It  was  Marion. 

•  i;  I  am  happy  to  see  you,  sirs,"  he  said,  extending  his  hand  to  each  with  a 
pleasant  air.  "Are  you  ready  for  service?  If  so,  I  can  give  you  a  post 
where  honor  follows  hand  in  hand  with  danger." 

"  We  are  here  for  duty,  sir,"  returned  the  planter ;  "  and  desire  to  be  placed 
where  we  can  be  of  most  service  to  our  country." 

"I'll  look  out  for  that,"  said  Marion,  with  a  friendly  air.  "Do  you  see 
that  gun?"  And  he  pointed  as  he  spoke  to  a  thirty-two  pounder  which 
stood  before  an  embrasure  facing  the  flag-staff. 

The  planter  bowed. 

"  Very  well.  I  give  it  to  your  charge.  It  is  the  largest  gun  in  the  fort, 
and  ought  to  tell  the  best  story.  See  that  it  sustains  itself  with  honor." 

He  left  them,  and  the  planter  and  woodsman  entered  at  once  on  duty. 
Thrown  upon  their  own  resources,  they  had  to  be  their  own  teachers  in 
gunnery ;  an  art,  however,  for  which  they  were  in  some  degree  prepared  by 
their  perfect  mastery  of  small  arms. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  a  young  man  approached,  whose  face  was  fami- 
liar to  them  both. 

"  Mr.  Jasper  ?"  said  the  planter,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  young  man ;  "  sergeant  at  your  service." 

"  Who  is  in  command  of  the  fort,  sergeant? 

"  Colonel  Moultrie.  that  tall  man  you  see  over  therewith  captain  Marion." 

"There  appear  to  be  two  regiments  here,"  said  the  planter. 

"  It  is  so,  sir.  The  one  is  under  Moultrie  himself,  and  the  other  under 
captain  Marion,  and  each  is  extremely  solicitous  for  the  conduct  and  honor 
of  his  men." 

"  A  natural  desire,"  observed  the  planter. 

"  Yes ;  and  one  which  the  Williamsburg  boys  share  in  common  with  their 
commander.  Marion's  men  will  do  their  duty." 

"  No  fear  of  that.     When  do  they  expect  the  enemy  ?" 

"  The  fleet  has  been  telegraphed  and  may  be  along  to-night ;  perhaps  not 
till  to-morrow.  If  we  only  have  powder  enough  to  hold  out,  we'll  give  'em 
a  little  Sou'  Car'lina  juice.  Do  you  think  you  can  manage  that  gun  ?" 

"  I've  an  idee  we'll  get  along,"  said  the  woodsman. 

"Most  likely,"  said  Jasper,  good  humoredly.  "  We're  all  inexperienced  in 
this  cannon  business ;  but  when  it  comes  to  the  rifle,  we're  at  home  1" 

"  At  present,"  said  the  planter,  "  we  must  do  as  well  as  we  know  how." 

"  The  eyes  of  the  city  are  on  us,"  observed  Jasper. 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS   JBEREY    MEN.  63 

"  Ya'as,  an  the  eyes  of  the  kentry,  tu !"  cried  a  tall,  slender,  singular  per- 
sonage, whom  they  all  recognized,  approaching  them. 

He  was  warmly  welcomed  by  the  party,  each  of  whom  was  familiar  with 
his  merits  as  one  of  the  boldest  and  shrewdest  men  of  the  borders. 

He  was  a  tall,  slender,  wiry  personage,  and  dressed  in  the  yellow  hunting 
shirt,  leggins  and  buskins  of  the  frontier.  In  appearance,  he  was  all  angles 
and  edges.  His  long,  hooked  nose,  his  sharply  jutting  brow  and  bold,  pointed 
chin  gave  to  his  features  an  angular  ensemble  in  perfect  keeping  with  his  sharp 
shoulders,  sharp  elbows,  and  long  sharp  fingers ;  and  these  again  were  in 
perfect  harmony  with  the  broad  rim  of  his  slouched  hat  which  fell  off  in  every 
direction  like  so  many  points  with  sharp  borders ;  the  fringes  of  his  hunting 
shirt  were  worn  down  to  perfect  edges ;  as  were  the  fringes  on  the  sides  of 
his  leggins ;  as  were  also'  even  the  tops  of  his  buskins. 

This  man  who  had  already  rendered  himself  famous  on  the  frontiers,  as  a 
destroyer  of  "  red  meat,"  was  destined  to  cut  a  similar  figure  upon  the  broad 
field  on  which  he  had  now  entered. 

."Haow  ar'  ye?"  he  added,  with  a  long,  nasal  twang.  "Aint  bin  here 
long,  I  spose  ?  Nor  I  nuther.  They  du  say,  we're  goin  to  hev  it  pesky 
sharp,  when  the'  red-coats  an  blew-jackits  come  up !  What  du  you  think  ? 
My  pinion  ar',  they  wunt  find  it  so  natrally  easy  after  all  When  I  wus 
ashore,  in  the  city,  this  mornin',  a  tory  feller  ses  to  me,  ses  he,  '  the  fleet  that's 
comin'  up  will  bring  yew  rebels  to  yer  senses.'  Ses  I,  Mister,  if  they  don't 
take  our  senses  away,  we  shan't  complain !  Ha !  ha!  'twantso  bad,  was  it  ?" 

"  Very  clever !"  answered  Jasper.  "  But,  tell  us  Snipe,  what  do  you  think 
of  that T 

And  as  he  spoke,  ho  pointed  out  to  sea,  where,  riding  up  the  horizon,  now 
appeared  the  tapering  masts  of  a  large  frigate. 

The  black,  far-reaching  eyes  of  the  frontiersman,  together  with  those  of 
the  party  around  him,  as  well  as  those  of  every  man  in  the  fort,  were  sud- 
denly fixed  in  mute  astonishment  on  the  object  which  had  so  suddenly  ar- 
rested their  attention. 

The  frigate  had  scarcely  cleared  the  line  of  the  horizon,  when  another  leapt 
fc  sight ;  this  was  followed  by  a  third,  which  was  succeeded  by  a  fourth,  and 
that  by  a  sixth,  and  these  by  three  others,  till  the  offing  appeared  like  a  for- 
est of  black  masts. 

"Thar's  nine  on  'em!"  cried  the  scalp  hunter. 

"  We  shall  have  warm  work !"  observed  the  planter. 

"  They'll  find  it  equally  as  warm,"  said  Jasper. 

"  An  a  leetle  warmer,  tu,  if  I  reckon  right !"  said  Snipe,  coolly.  "  Wait 
till  the  tarnal  critters  cum  up !" 

"  If  they  succeed  in  coming  in  to-night,"  said  the  planter,  "  our  chances  of 
standing  a  siege  are  slim.  The  fort  is  scarcely  half  finished !" 

This  appeared  to  be  the  impression  of  the  officers  around  the  flag  staff;  for 
as  Somers  spoke,  word  was  given  ordering  all  hands  to  the  unfinished 
walls. 

In  a  few  hours,  the  fortress  was  pronounced  tenable,  and  capable  of  stand- 
ing a  siege.  The  guns  in  the  embrasures  were  charged  and  rammed  home, 
and  the  gunners  stood  ready  to  salute  the  enemy  at  a  moment's  warning. 

But  the  fleet  which  ere  while  threatened  to  ride  so  gallantly  into  port,  now 
lay  tossing  in  the  offing,  unable  to  get  over  the  bar.  By  and  bye  it  was  evi- 
dent the  vessels  would  not  be  able  to  come  to  anchorage  that  day,  if  indeed 
they  should  succeed  in  making  it  at  all 

.  As  hour  after  hour  passed  away,  and  the  fleet  lay  helpless  in  the  offing,  the 
confidence  of  the  soldiers  in  the  fortress,  and  of  the  inhabitants  in  the  city, 
who  had  been  watching  its  movements  with  unflagging  interest,  returned : 
and  all  felt  satisfied  that  ample  time  would  be  had  to  prepare  for  the  struggle 
ere  it  came. 


g4  THE    SWAMP    STEED  j    OR    THE    DAYS 

«  They  will  not  be  up.before  to-morrow,  if  they  should  then,"  said  colonel 

"UMeanwhile,"  observed  captain  Marion,  "  we  shall  have  time  to  get  every- 
thing in  readiness  to  receive  them." 

"  Nieht  is  falling,  gentlemen,"  continued  Moultrie,  turning  to  his  offi6ers ; 
«  bid  your  men  to  rest,  for  the  probability  is  they  will  have  a  trying  time  of 

The  officers  bowed,  and  set  off,  each  in  the  direction  of  his  men.  In 
another  hour,  the  sentries  were  keeping  their  lonely  watch ;  the  fortress  was 
silent,  and  the  four  hundred  soldiers  within  its  walls  were  wrapt  in  calm  re- 

**  The  night  passed  away,  morning  came,  and  the  fort  was  again  alive  with 
the  tread  of  armed  men:  ;md  again,  as  on  the  preceding  day,  the  embrasures 
in  the  battlements  were  black  with  bristling  cannon. 

"  The  fleet  has  gained  ground  during  the  night,"  sai|  the  planter  to  Nat 
the  woodsman. 

"  Trew,"  observed  the  latter ;  "  an'  ef  I  know  anything  of  the  weather, 
they'll  he'v  wind  enuff  bimeby  to  work  'em  in ;  an'  they  wunt  hev  tu  wait ' 
long  nuther." 

As  if  to  prove  the  truth  of  the  woodsman's  observation,  the  wind  within  a 
few  minutes  freshened,  the  sails  began  to  fill,  and  the  fleet  moved  slowly  into 
port ;  and  in  less  than  two  hours  there  appeared  moving  up  the  channel,  two 
frigates  of  fifty  guns  each ;  five  of  twenty-eight  each,  one  of  twenty-six  guns, 
and  a  bomb  vessel. 

The  men  in  the  fort  were  eager  to  begin  the  combat;  every  face  was  flush- 
ed with  a  desire  to  convince  the  red  coats  and  blue  jackets  that  the  courage, 
at  least,  was  not  all  one  side. 

The  excitement  in  the  city  was  intense.  All  the  rebel  troops  that  could 
be  mustered  were  under  -arms,  and  prepared  for  battle.  Numerous  specta- 
tors lined  the  shores  and  streets  and  covered  the  tops  of  the  buildings.  Not  a 
spot  was  unoccupied  where  could  be  had  a  view  of  the  combat  which  all  fore- 
saw was  now  about  to  open. 

At  length,  the  fleet  drew  up  abreast  of  the  fort,  and  made  preparations  for 
battle. 

"  Captain  Marion,"  said  Moultrie,  "  bid  your  gunners  direct  their  pieces  at 
the  commodore's  ship — let  the  fifty  gun  frigates  be  attended  to  first — we  can 
settle  the  smaller  ones  afterward." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir!"  answered  the  other,  turning  off  to  where  his  command 
was  stationed,  and  giving  the  necessary  order. 

At  this  moment  a  line  of  flashing  light  broke  from  the  side  of  the  commo- 
dore's ship,  then  a  lengthened  range  of  white  curling  smoke,  and  this  was 
followed  by  a  loud,  deafening  crash,  which  seemed  to  shake  the  very  ele- 
ments. 

"Now,  then,  Somers,  now  then,  sweep  that  rascal's  deck,  in  return.  Fire !" 
cried  Marion. 

Neil  paused  a  moment,  adjusted  his  gun  to  a  proper  level,  and  then  step- 
ping back  applied  the  match.  Scarcely  had  the  smoke  died  away,  when  a 
frightful  scattering  of  limbs  and  planking  on  board  the  commodore's  ship 
told  how  accurate  and  deadly  had  been  the  planter's  aim. 

"  Well  done !"  cried  Marion,  applaudingly.  "Now  then,  Macdonald,"  he 
added,  running  to  another  gunner,  at  the  next  embrasure,  "  remember  our 
powder  and  ball  are  short.  Every  shot  must  tell !  Is  your  gun  in  range — 
aim  accurate  ?  Then,  in  God's  name,  fire !  Bravo !  Their  goes  their  main- 
mast! Well  done,  Macdonald,  my  boy— well  done!" 

Down  went  the  commodore's  mainmast  with  a  frightful  orash,  and  the 
commodore  with  it 


OF  MARION   A:;:>  ins  .v.;:;j.i:v   M:;.Y  65 

<%  ff.o,  there !"  cried  a  tall,  angular  figure  springing  boldly  on  top  of  the 
parapet,  in  sight  and  range  of  the  whole  fleet,  ''  I'm  goin'  to  give  one  of  yew 
fellers  a  rich  lick  ?" 

And  in  another  moment  he  had  brought  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder,  and  with 
that  quick  and  apparently  natural  motion  peculiar  to  riflemen  of  the  frontiers, 
took  a  deliberate  aim,  and  fired ;  then  pausing  a  moment  to  watch  the  effect 
of  his  shot^  he  sprang  back  among  the  gunners,  on  the  platform,  apparently 
very  well  satisfied  with  the  result  of  his  performance. 

"  I  knew  sum  of  'em  would  smell  pisen  when  Peter  barked !"  cried  the 
frontiersman,  with  a  quiet  chuckle,  as  he  coolly  set  to  work  to  recharge  his 
rifle. 

"Once  is  enough  for  that  kind  of  work,  Snipe!"  cried  Marion,  applaud- 
ingly. "  I  cannot  afford  to  lose  so  brave  a  soldier  thus  early  in  the  action. 
Hark !  the  murderous  devils  are  hurling  all  their  guns  against  us.  Let 
them  blaze  away ;  our  palmetto  logs  receive  their  balls,  but  throw  no  splint- 
ers !  Now,  then,  Somers,  my  gallant  friend,  is  that  aim  you  are  taking 
true — be  careful,  we  cannot  afford  to  lose  a  single  ounce  of  powder !  Ha ! 
Bravo !  that  was  an  aim,  indeed.  With  such  shots  as  that,  we'll  hardly  leave 
enough  of  the  blue  jackets  and  red  coats  to  carry  back  the  news  of  their  de- 

"  Hallo,  thar'!"  cried  Snipe,  the  frontiersman,  to  a  gunner,  "while  you're 
loadin'  that  feller  for  another  bark,  jes'  let  me  pepper  one  on  the  varmint 
with  my  Peter!" 

And  deliberately  stooping  down,  he  put  his  head  and  shoulders  through 
the  embrasure,  raised  and  sighted  his  rifle,  and  then  pulled  its  trigger. 

"  I  dropped  an  ossifer  that  time !"  he  exclaimed,  coolly  drawing  back,  to 
make  room  for  the  gun  which  was  at  that  instant  wheeled  into  its  place,  and 
a  few  moments  afterward  successfully  discharged. 

At  this  period  of  the  combat,  the  air  shook  with  the  deafening  peals  echo- 
ing from  the  fleet  as  well  as  from  the  fort ;  and  there  being  but  little  or 
no  wind,  the  smoke  was  so  thick  and  suffocating  as  to  become  a  very  serious 
annoyance.  Nevertheless,  both  parties  felt  the  necessity  of  continuing  the 
action,  though  from  different  causes ;  the  fleet  from  that  bull-dog  motive 
which  insists  upon  forcing  its  enemy  to  submission,  the  fort  from  that  pecu- 
liar obstinacy  which  will  knuckle  to  nothing  short  of  utter  annihilation. 

Thus  far  the  dead  and  wounded  on  the  decks  of  the  fleet  were  frightfully 
numerous,  while  in  the  fort  hardly  a  man  was  wounded. 

The  firing  gradually  fell  off,  so  as  to  give  the  smoke  an  opportunity  to 
partially  pass  off,  and  was  then  resumed  with  unflagging  severity  by  both 
parties. 

"  Don't  fire  a  shot  that  is  not  bound  to  tell!"  cried  Marion,  running  from 
gunner  to  gunner,  and  everywhere  arousing  them  to  eagerness,  coolnesg  and 
caution.  '"Let  them  fire  away  their  ammunition — ours  is  too  precious !  Re- 
member that  on  every  shot  hangs  the  destiny  of  our  country !  Are  your 
aims  true  ?  Fire,  then !" 

And  thus,  he  flew  from  gun  to  gun,  cheering,  warning  and  encouraging  his 
men.  A  man  on  the  top  of  the  parapet  attracted  his  attention.  It  was 
Snipe,  the  frontiersman,  coolly  picking  up,  one  after  another,  a  number  of 
rifles  which  he  had  collected,  and  firing  them  at  the  enemy. 

"  Come  down,"  cried  Marion.  "  Come  down,  sir,  at  once.  Are  you  mad? 
Come  down,  sir !'.' 

"  Can't  du  it,  capting !"  cried  the  frontiersman,  "  this  is  the  only  place 
where  I  kin  see!" 

"  Come  down,  sir,  at  once !"  cried  the  officer,  authoritatively. 

" In  a minit,  capting!"  cried  Snipe,  coolly.  -'I've  only  got  a  couple  of 
more  left.  I'd  like  to  make  'em  all  tell !" 

Nor  did  he  descend  to  the  platform  till  he  had  fired  off  every  gun. 

9 


66  THE   SWAMP   STEED  j    OR    THE    CAYS 

Then  going  up  to  the  officer,  who  could  scarcely  preserve  his  gravity,  he 

"  I  hope,  capting,  yer  aint  agoin'  to  chizzle  a  feller  out  of  his  chances. 
There  aint 'such  a  nutter  spot  to  fire  from  in  the  hull  fort  Come  up,  an' 

"Nonsense,  sir !"  answered  Marion,  with  assumed  anger,.  "  'Tis  a  reck- 
less and  useless  disregard  of  human  life  to  which  I  will  not  consent!" 

"But  consider,  capting " 

"  Silence,  sir !"  returned  Marion.  "  Your  conduct  deserves  to  be  reported 
to  the  colonel,  sir,  and " 

"Look,  capting,  look!"  cried  Snipes,  interrupting  him. 

Marion  turned  his  eyes  in  the  direction  pointed  out  by  the  frontiersman, 
and  beheld  the  flag,  which  a  chance  shot  from  the  fleet  had  wrested  from 
the  staff,  falling  over  the  fortress. 

A  loud  shout  from  the  fleet  followed  its  descent. 

"The  rebels  have  struck!"  was  the  cry,  passing  from  lip  to  lip,  on  board 
the  vessels. 

A  groan  went  up  from  the  multitude  in  the  city. 

"  The  flag  is  struck !  Our  brave  defenders  have  ceased  to  struggle.  All 
is  lost!"  was  murmured  on  every  hand. 

Both  parties  were,  happily,  mistaken.  Marion  turned  from  gunner  to  gun- 
ner, with  an  imploring  look;  at  length  his  eye  met  that  of  Jasper,  who  was 
in  the  act  of  drawing  back  previous  to  firing  his  piece. 

The  sergeant,  wrapt  up  in  the  management  of  his  gun,  had  heard  nothing 
of  the  fate  of  the  flag,  and  was  therefore  somewhat  astonished  at  the  loud 
rejoicing  of  the  vessel's  crews. 

"  Perhaps  they  are  cheering  at  the  arrival  of  a  reinforcement,  and  counting 
on  our  capture  now  as  certain.  But  they  won't  find  that  quite  so  easy.  The 
old  fort  will  swallow  without  flinching  all  the  iron  pills  they  can  send  it !" 

It  was  at  this  moment  his  eye  encountered  that  of  Marion.  The  latter 
seeing  the  sergeant  did  not  understand  the  position  of  matters,  pointed 
slowly  and  significantly  to  the  shattered  flag  staff. 

An  instant  was  all  the  young  man  required  to  comprehend  everything ; 
in  another  his  mind  was  made  up  as  to  what  course  to  pursue. 

"  Take  my  place  at  the  gun,''  he  said  to  Marion,  "  and  give  those  red  coat 
rascals  a  settler  for  their  insolence.  I'll  be  back  in  a  moment!" 

So  saying,  he  sprang  with  the  agility  of  a  cat  up  on  the  ramparts,  where 
he  paused  an  instant  to  notice  where  the  flag  had  fallen ;  then  throwing  hir$- 
self  from  the  wall,  he  landed  safely  on  the  sandy  beach,  within  a  step  of 
where  it  lay  fluttering  in  the  wind. 

At  this  instant,  a  ball,  levelled  at  him  from  the  admiral's  frigate,  passed 
between  him  and  the  banner  1  , 

With  a  laugh  and  gesture  of  defiance  at  the  foe,  he  picked  up  the  ensign, 
and  waving  it  thrice  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  who  could  not  restrain  a  cry 
of  admiration  at  his  intrepidity,  he  sprang  up  to  an  embrasure -in  the  wall ; 
and  shortly  afterwards  was  seen  climbing  the  flag-staff,  holding  in  one  hand 
the  ensign,  which  he  coolly  re-fastened  to  the  pole,  while  a  perfect  shower  of 
bullets  whistled  past^  without  touching  either  himself  or  the  flag,  which 

r'n  waved  gallantly  in  the  breeze,  and  as  before  flaunted  its  defiance  to 
foe. 

The  gallant  sergeant  now  descended  to  the  platform,  amid  the  enthusiastic 
acclamations  of  all  within  the  fortress  who  had  witnessed  the  gallant  feat, 
and  returned  to  his  commander,  saying  modestly — 
"  I  will  now  relieve  you,  sir,  and  return  to  my  gun." 
"You  are  the  hero  of  to-day !"  exclaimed  Marion,  seizing  and  pressing  his 
hand  warmly.     <;  And  your  country  will  not  forget' you '" 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MKN.  67 

The  sergeant  blushed  modestly,  and  silently  resumed  the  management  of 
his  gun. 

The  red  coats  and  blue  jackets  on  board  the  fleet  were  amazed  at  the  ob- 
stinacy of  the  fort ;  nor  did  they  comprehend  how  its  defenders  could  hope 
for  aught  but  defeat  and  destruction  against  a  force  so  large  and  dispropor- 
tioned  as  their  own.  Fortunately  this  idea  did  not  pervade  the  gallant  party 
in  the  fortress,  who  felt  perfectly  satisfied,  that  if  their  ammunition  held  out, 
triumph  must,  at  the  close  of  the  battle,  be  theirs. 

One  gun  in  particular,  had,  from  the  beginning  of  the  combat,  caused  a 
great  deal  of  annoyance  to  the  frigates  of  the  fleet.  It  was  the  thirty-two 
pounder  under  the  management  of  the  planter.  This  gun  appeared  to  divide 
its  favors  equally  between  the  two  leading  vessels,  and  seemed  determined 
that  neither  should  have  any  well  grounded  right  to  complain  of  partiality. 
It  tore  and  raked  both  with  a  precision  and  fatality  of  aim  which  spoke  well 
for  the  genius  of  its  workers.  Now  its  rage  appeared  fixed  on  one,  then  it 
suddenly  changed  to  the  other ;  and  each  of  its  well  directed  messengers  was 
a  sure  death-usher  to  all  at  whom  it  was  directed.  It  appeared  to  have  no 
particular  place  of  aim  ;  but  wandered  about  wherever  a  group  was  congre- 
gated. Its  especial  wrath  seemed  fixed  upon  the  officers ;  no  two  of  whom 
could  be  seen  together  for  a  moment,  without  one  or  both  paying  the  next 
moment  the  penalty  of  their  rashness.  All  on  board  the  two  frigates  felt 
the  necessity  of  silencing  a  gun  which  made  such  frightful  havoc,  and  every 
energy  was  thrown  out  for  that  purpose.  But  it  was  of  no  avail  The  big 
thirty-two  blazed  away,  with  the  same  regularity  in  time,  the  same  accuracy 
of  aim,  and  the  same  fatality  in  effect.  An  officer  who  had  been  watching  it 
for  some  minutes,  and  noting  the  havoc  it  made  among  his  men  and  the  des- 
truction it  caused  to  his  vessel,  determined  at  length  to  silence  it.  Stepping 
up  to  a  gunner  he  pushed  him  aside,  saying — 

"  Away,  and  let  me  put  an  end  to  that  fellow !" 

He  stooped  to  poise  the  piece,  aud  at  that  instant  a  flash  of  light  appeared 
at  the  nozzle  of  the  big  thirty  two ;  a  small  cloud  of'  smoke  careened  up,  a 
report  followed — and  the  head  of  the  officer  rolled  from  his  shoulders  as 
cleanly  as  if  it  had  been  severed  by  an  axe ! 

Fear  seized  upon  the  spectators  of  this  frightful  incident ;  and  from  that 
moment  all  hope  of  quieting  the  big  thirty-two,  or  of  reducing  the  fort,  was 
abandoned  by  the  crew  of  the  ill-fated  frigate. 

"  Heaven  is  with  them,  and  against  us! '  they  murmured  ;  and  thenceforth 
their  guns  were  worked  mechanically,  and  without  the  enthusiasm  of  battle 
to  sustain  them. 

Meanwhile  the  big  thirty-two  played  away  as  if  bent  upon  the  utter  des- 
truction of  the  frigates,  leaving  to  the  other  guns  of  the  fort  the  task  of  at- 
tending tt  the  smaller  vessels  of  the  fleet. 

"  You  work  well,1' said  Marion,  approaching  the  planter.  "The  enemy 
are  evidently  staggered  at  your  thirty-two  pounder.  See  how  wildly  they 
fire !" 

"  Let  them  show  their  heels,  then,"  said  Somers,  as  he  deliberately 
sighted  his  gun  at  a  group  of  five  officers,  and  fired. 

"  They'll  be  glad  to  do  it  ere  long !"  oberved  Marion,  with  a  quiet  smile, 
"if  that  is  to  be  the  price  of  their  stay!" 

As  he  spoke,  there  was  a  momentary  confusion  on  that  part  of  the 
frigate's  deck  at  which  the  thirty-two  had  been  set ;  this  was  followed  by  a 
scattering  of  limbs  and  fragments  of  wood;  and  then  all  was  still.  Of  the 
five  officers,  but  one  remained  to  tell  the  story  of  his  companions'  fate  !  The 
rest  lay  broken,  mangled  and  severed  in  a  hundred  pieces. 

"  But  what  is  the  matter  now?"  demanded  Marion,  with  a  moody  brow, 
as  he  noticed  that  the  guns  of  the  fortress  were  not  so  active  in  their  dis- 
charges as  before. 


68  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR   THE    DAYS 

"  The  powder  is  gin  out,  I  reckon !"  observed  the  woodsman. 

"Perhaps!"  returned  the  captain,  uneasily ;  and  he  passed  with  a  quick 
step  to  the  centre  of  the  platform,  where  stood  the  commandant  of  the  fort, 
sweeping  the  bay  with  his  spy-glass. 

"  We  are  on  the  eve  of  a  victory,  colonel,"  said  Marion,  hastily,  "  and  yet 
the  guns  work  as  if  the  men  were  half  asleep  !" 

"Our  powder  is  very  low,"  answered  the  commandant,  with  a  sigh.  "  We 
have  left  scarcely  half  a  dozen  charges  to  a  gun !" 

"  Heaven !     What  is  to  be  done  ?" 

"  I  have  despatched  a  messenger  to  Charleston  for  a  fresh  supply." 

"And before  it  comes,"  said  Marion,  who  could  scarcely  restrain  his  vex- 
ation, "  our  last  charge  will  perhaps  have  been  fired,  and  the  fortress  be  in  the 
hands  0f  the  enemy !" 

"  We  must  hope  for  the  best,  sir !"  said  the  commandant,  with  an  air  of 
resignation.  "  I  have  an  idea  though  that  something  might  be  done  to  avert 
the  danger  you  speak  of.  Do  you  see  that  schooner  lying  off  there  by  the 
creek  ?" 

'  Distinctly." 

"  She  is  one  of  the  royal  transports,  and  no  doubt  well  provided  with 
powder.  Thirty  brave  fellows  might  board  her  successfully,  and — " 

"  I  understand  you,"  interrupted  Marion.  "  It  shall  be  done.  Not  a 
moment  is  to  be  lost.  I  will  collect  the  men  and  start  at  once." 

The  commandant  replied  to  him  by  a  look  replete  with  gratitude  and 
thanks,  and  Marion  moved  away  to  make  his  preparations. 

He  first  ordered  three  boats  to  be  held  in  readiness,  then  selected  his  men, 
and  then  calling  sergeants  Jasper  and  Macdonald  from  their  guns,  he  led  the 
way  to  where  Neil  Somers  and  Nat  the  woodsman  were  doing  such  terrible 
execution  with  their  big  thirty-two. 

'•  Gentlemen,"  said  Marion,  "  I  desire  your  company  in  an  expedition  on 
which  I  am  about  to  enter,  and  wish  you  to  yield  your  gun  to  these  two 
officers,  who  will  attend  to  it  during  your  absence." 

The  planter  and  woodsman  bowed  and  stepped  aside,  while  Jasper  and 
Macdonald  took  their  places  at  the  gun. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you,  sirs,"  said  Marion,  to  the  sergeants,  "  that  this  gun 
must  neither  falter  nor  lose  one  jot  of  the  position  it  has  occupied  during  the 
action.  You  shall  be  supplied  with  powder,  even  if  the  rest  of  the  pieces 
have  to  lie  idle.  I  will  speak  to  the  colonel  to  that  effect,  and  I  shall  loek  on 
my  return  for  a  good  report  of  your  conduct  in  my  absence !" 

"  The  character  of  the  gun  shall  not  suffer  in  our  hands,  sir !"  said  Mac- 
donald proudly. 

"  You  may  rest  easy  on  that  score,  sir !"  added  Jasper. 

"  I  have  every  confidence  in  you,  gentlemen,"  said  Marion,  flatteringly. 
"  Come,  sirs,"  he  added,  addressing  the  planter  and  woodsman,  "we  must  be 
on  .our  way !" 

They  left  the  spot  and  passed  to  the  commandant,  to  whom  Marion  briefly 
recommended  the  propriety  of  furnishing  the  thirty-two  pounder  with  a  suffi- 
ciency of  ammunition  and  then  descended  from  the  platform  to  the  beach, 
where  they  found  the  boats  and  men  in  waiting. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Marion,  "  the  object  of  this  expedition  is  to  obtain  a 
supply  of  powder ;  and  that  schooner  you  see  lying  yonder  near  the  creek 
must  furnish  it.  There  are  thirty  of  you ;  divide  off  in  sets  of  ten  each,  and 
then  embark  Do  you  understand  me,  gentlemen  ?" 

The  men  made  no  reply,  but  did  as  he  instructed  them,  and  that  with  a 
cheerfulness'  and  alacrity  which  showed  how  eager  they  were  to  enter  upon 
the^  enterprise  for  which  their  commander  had  selected  them. 

"  Jest  as  I  'spected !"  murmured  the  observant  woodsman.  "  They  obey 
'the  cap'n  without  stoppin'  to  think  or  talk,  'cause  they've  got  confidence  in 


OF    MARION    AM)    HIS    MERRV    MEN.  69 

him.  •'  J.r  talks  to  'em  as  ef  they  were  men,  an1  not  as  ef  they  were  mere 
macirr  A.  .tfo  wonder  he's  pop'lar,  an'  kin  make  his  sogers  go  tu  the  devil 
fur  hrni  l" 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Marion,  turning  to  the  planter  and  woodsman,  "  I  wish 
van  to  take  charge  of  two  of  these  boats,  I  will  manage  the  third.  Now  for 
<sy  plan !" 

And  he  unfolded  it  to  them  in  a  whisper.    When  he  had  finished,  he  said : 

"  Now,  then,  sirs,  get  aboard.     We  have  not  a  moment  to  lose !" 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  three  hundred  yards  from  the  island,  and  with- 
a  fifty  of  the  schooner.  They  then  divided  off,  one  making  for  the  stern  of 
Jbe  vessel,  another  for  the  side,  and  a  third  for  the  bow. 

Fortunately,  for  the  success  of  the  expedition,  the  parties  on  board  the 
schooner  were  all  assembled  on  the  port  side,  watching  with  eager  interest 
the  progress  of  the  action  between  the  fortress  and  the  fleet ;  while  the  boats 
approached  the  vessel  on  its  starboard  side. 

Marion's  pinnace  shot  towards  the  bow,  the  planter's  towards  the  side,  the 
woodsman's  towards  the  stern. 

The  captain's  passed  around  the  bow  to  the  port  side,  and  came  in  sight 
of  the  parties  on  board  the  schooner  who  were  somewhat  staggered  at  the 
suddenness  of  their  appearance. 

"  Good  day,  sirs,"  said  Marion,  doffing  his  chapeau  with  a  quiet  smile. 
"  They  are  having  quite  a  warm  time  of  it,  down  there !  Why  don't  you  go- 
and  join  'em  ?" 

"  Who  are  you,  sir  ?"  said  the  commander  of  the  schooner,  with  a  con- 
temptuous glance. 

"  I  am,  sir,"  returned  Marion,  calmly,  "  the  monarch  of  these  waters,  as 
George  is  monarch  of  all  above  the  shore ;  and  I  am  come  to  demand  the 
tribute  which  you  owe  me  for  invading  and  occupying  this  part  of  my  realm." 

This  was  said  in  a  tone  and  accompanied  with  a  look  which  fully  persuaded, 
the  commandant  of  the  schooner,  as  well  as  his  men,  that  the  master  of  the 
pinnace  was  either  a  madman  or  a  fool. 

"  Friend,"  said  the  commandant,  "you  had  better  carry  yourself  and  jests 
to  another  market" 

"  What !  without  my  tribute  ?  I  couldn'  think  of  it,  sir !  I  am  not  in 
the  habit  of  allowing  strangers  to  occupy  my  grounds  without  paying  for  the 
privilege.  You  really  must  cash  up !" 

"And  pray,  most  potent  monarch  of  the  sea !"  said  the  commandant  with 
a  derisive  smile,  "  what  is  the  amount  of  your  exaction?  Shall  I  pay  it  in 
guineas  or  in  stripes  ?  Will  your  majesty  have  it  now,  or  wait  till  it  suits 
your  debtor  to  pay  it?" 

"  Sir,"  returned  the  other,  with  an  air  of  mock  deference,  "  I  will  have 
it  now  I" 

"  Dorft  you  wish  you  may  get  it  ?"  asked  the  commandant. 

"  I  certainly  do !" 

"  Then,"  continued  the  commandant,  "  will  your  majesty  have  the  good- 
ness to  come  aboard  and  obtain  it  ?" 

"  Most  certainly  1"  answered  Marion.  "  Comrades,"  he  added,  "we  must 
humor  this  gentleman,  since  he  will  not  humor  us.  He  will  not  hand  over 
the  tribute ;  we  must  therefore  go  aboard  and  take  it !" 

"  But  your  majesty,"  continued  the  commandant,  in  the  same  strain  of 
mockery,  "  will  first  throw  your  arms  overboard,  and  order  your  followers  to 
do  the  same !" 

"  Not  at  all,  sir !"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then,  your  majesty,"  resumed  the  commandant,  "  I  shall  be  under  the 
necessity  of  sinking  you  !" 

"  Oh  1"  cried  the  other,  with  an  air  of  affected  alarm,  "  you  are  jesting, 

TWOT  I" 


70  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  the  commandant ;  "  and  I  give  your  majesty  thirty 
seconds  to  either  throw  your  weapons  into  the  sea,  or  move  off  altogether." 

"  You  are  positively  cruel !"  observed  the  captain,  with  an  air  of  astonish- 
ment and  fear. 

"  Come,  your  majesty — decide !"  said  the  commandant,  in  a  tone  that  made 
his  already  laughing  followers  nearly  shake  themselves  to  pieces. 

<;  But" — stammered  the  captain,  with  an  affected  cry,  "  you  will  not  mur- 
der a  man  for  calling  for  his  own !  What  will  you  do  at  the  end  of  the  thirty 
seconds?" 

"Order  my  men  to  bring  their  guns  to  bear  upon  you." 

"  Oh,  don't — don't  do  that  /"  said  the  captain,  with  an  affectation  of  alarm 
which  was  perfectly  ludicrous. 

"  Come,  come — time  flies !" 

"But,"  cried  the  captain,  whiningly,  "where  are  your  guns?  I  don't  see 
'em!" 

"  Til  show  you !"  answered  the  commandant,  turning  to  his  men,  and  giv- 
ing them  a  sign. 

The  latter  ceased  their  mirth,  and  wheeled  around  to  seize  their  guns.  As 
they  turned  they  suddenly  uttered  a  loud  cry. 

"What's  the  matter  mow?"  demanded  the  commandant,  wheeling  about 
in  surprise.  As  he  did  so,  he  started,  and  became  pale. 

And  with  reason;  for  before  him,  ranged  in  a  line,  with  muskets  raised 
and  levelled,  were  twenty  men,  awaiting  their  commander's  order  to  fire ! 

It  was  the  two  boat's  crews,  who,  while  Marion  so  adroitly  rounded  the 
bow  and  arrested  the  attention  of  the  commandant  and  his  men,  had  scaled 
the  vessel's  side  and  stern,  and,  unperceived,  made  themselves  masters  of  the 
arm-chest,  containing  the  weapons  of  the  schooner. 

This  was  a  tableau  for  which  the  commandant  was  scarcely  prepared,  and 
for  a  few  moments  his  tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth,  and  his  cheeks 
assumed  the  paleness  of  marble.  He  was  a  brave  man,  however,  and  his 
self-possession  speedily  returned.  An  instant  was  sufficient  to  enable  him  to 
comprehend  the  details  of  the  stratagem,  as  well  as  to  satisfy  him  that  "he  had 
been  playing  a  game  of  sharps  with  one  who  was  his  master. 

By  this  time  Marion  and  his  crew  had  sprung  from  their  boat  to  the 
schooner's  deck,  and  drawn  up  in  a  line  behind  that  formed  by  the  joint  crews 
of  the  planter  and  backwoodsman. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Marion  to  the  commandant.  "  you  look  as  if  you  had 
thought  better  of  it !  You  will  now  give  us  a  little  longer  time  to  move  off, 
will  you  not  ?" 

The  commandant  was  speechless,  but  collected. 

"  Come,  sir,"  continued  Marion,  somewhat  impatiently,  "  find  your  tongue 
s  speedily  as  possible.  I  am  in  haste.  Where  is  your  powder  ?" 

"  Yoa  have  succeeded  in  surprising,  but  you  have  not  yet  conquered  me !" 


answered  the  commandant     "  If  you  want  my  powder,  find  it, !' 

"  Young  man,"  said  Marion,  sternly,  "  I  respect  your  courage,  but  not  your 
obstinacy.  It  was  your  obstinacy  that  spoke  then,  and  it  is  mine  which  an- 
swers it  now.  I  must  know  where  your  powder  is !" 

"Find  it,  then!"  answered  the  other, 'fiercely. 

"  Beware,  sir,''  said  Marion,  his  brow  darkening  as  he  spoke ;  "  It  will  not 
be  well  for  you,  if  you  drive  me  to  extremities.  I  am  in  no  humor  to  put  up 
with  either  your  insolence  or  your  bravado.  Where  is  your  powder  ?" 

"  Find  it !"  returned  the  young  commandant,  haughtily. 

•  Unless  you  tell  it  me,  sir,  and  that  instantly,  I  shall  be  compelled  to  resort 
to  measures  of  a  character  destructive  to  yourself  and  men,  and  unpleasant 
tome!" 

"Do  your  worst!" 

"Then,  sir — " 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS     MERRY    MEN.  7  L 

'A  moment!"  cried  the  planter,  interrupting  the  storm  which  he  saw 
gathering  and  almost  ready  to  burst.  "  A  moment,  captain !  Perhaps  the 
gentleman  will  not  refuse  to  hearken  to  me !'' 

"  I  give  you  two  minutes,  to  try  him,'1  said  Marion,  turning  away  towards 
the  after  part  of  the  vessel. 

"Is  that  your  answer,  sir?"  asked  Somers,  bending  his  eyes  on  the  com- 
mandant in  his  calm,  impressive  way. 

"It  is!"  replied  the  latter,  drawing  himself  up. 

"  Pause,  sir — reflect!"  continued  the  planter,  solemnly.  "You  are  prison- 
ers, you  and  your  men.  The  vessel  and  all  it,  contains  are  no  longer  yours, 
nor  under  your  control ;  on  the  contrary,  they  belong  to  us,  their  capturers. 
You  are  our  prisoners;  in  our  hands,  and  at  our  mercy.  Why  aggravate 
your  position,  when  a  slight  show  of  common  politeness  will  soften  it  and 
restore  you  to  liberty?" 

"  You  talk  extravagantly,  sir !  Your  prisoners,  indeed !"  And  the  young 
man  laughed  mockingly,  although  it  was  very  evident  a  true  sense  of  his  po- 
sition was  gradually  stealing  over  and  forcing  its  due  weight  upon  him. 

'•'Yes,  sir,  our  prisoners.  Can  you  deny  it?  Do  you  wish  evidence  of  ity 
other  than  what  your  eyes  now  furnish  you  ?  You  are  silent !  "Tis  well ; 
but  why  then  by  your  haughtiness  attempt  to  play  a  part  so  foreign  to  that 
of  a  prisoner  ?  What  is  there  prevents  us,  your  conquerors,  from  using  the 
rights  of  capturers.  We  are  enemies;  you  the  weaker,  we  the  stronger 
power;  you  haughty  and  defiant,  we  equally  a.s  proud  and  daring;  you 
unarmed,  we  with  the  weapons  of  death  at  our  shoulders,  our  eyes  upon  the 
sights,  our  fingers  on  the  triggers !  And  yet  we  are  forbearing !  Pause,  sir 
-reflect !" 

"I  have  spoken,  sir!"  said  the  young  man,  haughtily. 

"  For  yourself,  yes — for  your  men,  no  I  It  is  not  your  own  fate  alone  you 
pronounce,  but  that  of  your  crew !  As  you  speak,  so  must  they  abide. 
Your  fate  is  theirs — if  you  die,  so  do  they  !  Have  you  the  right,  in  this  your 
position,  to  sacrifice  their  lives,  even  if  determined  to  throw  away  your  own  ? 
I  will  not  insult  you,  sir.  nor  tempt  them,  by  offering  to  treat  with  your 
men!" 

This  last  appeal  touched  the  commandant ;  a  momentary  struggle  with  his 
pride,  and  all  was  over :  he  yielded. 

"Sir!"  he  replied,  in  a  voice,  tinctured  with  emotion,  "you  are  right.  I 
admit  your  premises  and  your  conclusions.  I  am  your  prisoner.  What  is 
your  wish  ?" 

"  That  you  deliver  up  your  ammunition." 

"  Mr.  Whitehurst,"  said  the  commandant,  turning  to  his  first  lieutenant. 
"  take  a  gang  of  men  with  you  to  the  magazine,  and  bring  up  the  powder  I 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  lieutenant,  touching  his  hat.  Then  selecting  four 
or  five  of  the  crew,  he  passed  through  the  lines,  to  the  cabin,  down  the  steps 
of  which  he  disappeared. 

In  a  few  minutes,  the  lieutenant  and  his  gang  returned,  the  latter  bear- 
ing between  them  the  powder,  which,  at  a  signal  from  their  commander,  they 
transferred  to  .Marion's  troupe,  who  at  once  passed  it  into  the  boats. 

"  All  is  right,  sir,"  observed  Somers.  "  Having  accomplished  the  object  of 
our  visit,  we  shall  now  restore  you  to  liberty,  and  then  take  our  leave. 
Aboard,  comrades,  aboard !"  he  added,  turning  to  his  men.  "  Our  presence 
is  needed  at  the  Island." 

He  sprang  into  his  boat,  as  did  the  woodsman  into  his,  as  did  Marion  into 
bis,  each  followed  safely  and  quickly  by  his  men. 

"  But  yon'  are  carrying  off  our  arms  !"  cried  the  commandant,  leaning  over 
the  schooner's  side. 

"  We  have  need  of  them !"  replied  Marion,  rising,  politely  taking  off  hiahat 
and  making  a  very  graceful  bow.  "  We  gave  you  your  vessel  and  your  lires; 


72  THE    SWAMP   STEED  J    OR   THE    DAYS 

be  grateful  for  them.  As  for  the  muskets,  we  have  not  seen  fit  to  present 
YOU  with  them.  Good  day!" 

"  Curse  you !"  muttered  the  commandant,  turning  back  passionately. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Marion,  "  they  are  crying  for  us  at  the  Island.  Do  you 
not  hear  them  ?  Their  cries  are  frightful !" 

All  parties  listened ;  and  then  they  understood  the  captain. 

Every  gun  in  the  fortress  was  silent,  except  one — the  big  thirty-two  I 

The  powder  then  had.  at  length,  given  out — the  last  round  been  discharged. 
One  gun  alone  answered  the  fire  of  a  whole  fleet! 

Their  souls  were  in  labor.  They  looked  at  each  other,  and  then  at  their 
leaders,  whose  brows  were  working  with  agony. 

"  Give  way!"  cried  the  woodsman. 

"  Give  way !"  continued  the  planter. 

"  Give  way !"  concluded  Marion. 

And  yet  no  man  could  have  recognized  in  either  voice  the  natural  tones  of 
the  speaker. 

The  rowers  fell  to  their  oars  with  the  energy  of  men  whose  hearts  were  in 
their  hands ;  and  the  boats  glided  over  the  surface  of  the  water  with  a  speed 
which  threatened  to  bring  them  quickly  to  the  Island. 

Meanwhile  the  discharges  of  the  big  thirty-two  became  slower  and  more 
dow ;  and  by  the  time  the  boats  were  within  thirty  yards  of  the  shore,  they 
at  length  ceased  altogether. 

"  Oh,  men— men !"  cried  the  planter,  half  reproachfully. 

"  The  country — the  country !  exclaimed  Marion,  with  an  imploring  glance 
at  his  crew. 

"  A  strong  pull,  boys,  if  yew  love  liberty,"  groaned  the  woodsman,  on 
whose  bronzed  brow  cold  sweat  hung  in  large  beads. 

The  men  answered  by  throwing  every  muscle  into  action ;  the  oar-blades 
fairly  quivered  as  they  rose  and  fell  in  the  current';  and  the  boats  shot 
towards  the  beach  as  if  propelled  by  electricity. 

As  it  became  understood  through  the  fleet  that  the  big  thirty-two,  which 
had  created  more  annoyance  and  done  more  destruction  than  all  the  rest  of 
the  fortress's  guns  put  together,  had  at  length,  either  from  injury  or  want  ot 
ammunition,  ceased  its  work,  there  uprose  from  the  royal  decks  a  sponta- 
neous shout  of  rejoicing  which  was  heard  far  above  the  roar  of  battle.  The 
prevailing  supposition  was  that  the  defenders  of  the  fortress  were  nearly  if 
not  wholly  destroyed ;  a  supposition  which  was  strengthened  by  the  silence 
that  answered  the  discharges  of  their  guns,  and  the  apparent  loneliness  of  the 
embrasures,  at  none  of  which  could  the  glasses  of  the  enemy  discover  a  sin- 
gle man ;  and  many  of  the  smaller  vessels  immediately  bore  in  closer  to  the 
Island,  and  threw  themselves  abreast  of  the  fortress,  for  the  purpose  of  de- 
molishing it,  and  of  burying  its  survivors,  if  there  were  any,  in  its  ruins. 
Thus  they  were,  in  their  own  opinion,  about  to  crush  in  its  very  bud  the 
stronghold  of  rebellion,  and,  by  making  an  example  of  the  leading  and  most 
daring  traitors,  teach  a  lesson  in  the  name  of  God  and  the  Icing,  that 
the  people  would  not  very  soon  forget 

What  then  was  their  terror  and  confusion,  as  they  were  about  to  open  a 
destroying  fire,  and  what  the  pleasure  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  city,  who  had 
given  up  all  for  lost,  to  see  the  embrasures  of  the  fortress  once  more  flashing 
with  flame,  its  walls  once  again  half  obscured  by  white  curling  clouds,  and 
to  hear  the  whole  atmospheric  vault  trembling  with  its '  simultaneous  and 
deafning  discharges ! 

For  a  brief  season,  they  were  spell-bound  with  astonishment;,  meanwhile 
the  grape  and  ball  of  the  fortress  were  tearing  them  in  pieces.  Officers  and 
men  were  falling  on  every  hand,  and  the  vessels  themselves  rapidly  yielding 
to  the  destructive  fire  of  the  fort.  It  was  evident  this  could  not  last  for 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  73 

any  length  of  time  without  a  most  frightful  loss  to  the  fleet,  and  in  the  end, 
to  its  total  destruction. 

The  rebels,  it  was  very  plain,  had  no  intention  of  yielding;  and  the  pecu- 
liarity of  the  palmetto  wood  out  of  which  the  fortress  was  constructed,  pre- 
served them,  in  a  great  degree,  from  the  fire  of  the  foe.  Meanwhile,  the 
big  thirty-two  was  sending  its  souvenirs  to  the  two  frigates  alternately,  each 
ball  considerately  lessening  the  numerical  force  of  their  officers  and  men,  and 
making  such  havoc  on  their  decks  as  to  render  it  highly  probable  nothing 
would  shortly  be  left  of  either. 

By  this  time  the  ammunition  looked  for  from  the  city,  had  also  arrived, 
and  everybody  in  the  fortress  was  in  the  highest  spirits. 

"  All  we  want  now,  Mr.  Somers,"  cried  sergeant  Macdonald,  exultingly, 
whose  gun  was  next  to  the  big  thirty-two,  "is  a  fair  field,  which  we 
have  got,  and  no  favors,  which  the  enemy  certainly  are  not  inclined  to  give 
us,  and  in  two  hours  we'll  riddle  'em  so  they  won't  know  in  what  country 
they're  in!" 

"That  we  will,"  answered  the  planter,  laughingly.  "By  the  time  the  ac- 
tion is  over,  they'll  be  glad  to  learn  the  most  direct  course  to  London !" 

'•  My  'pinion  ar',"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  "  the  varmint  '11  be  willin1  to  go 
mtu  a  nearer  port!" 

"  Let  them  go  where  they  will,"  observed  sergeant  Jasper,  whose  gun  was 
next  to  Macdonald's^"  they'll  never  have  it  to  say  we  did  not  do  our  best  to 
push  'em  along !" 

"  Ah  !"  cried  Macdonald,  laughing,  "  if  they  will  but  remain  where  they 
are  for  a  few  hours,  it  won't  make  any  difference  what  we  did  for  'em !" 

"  Iron,"  observed  the  planter,  with  a  meaning  smile,  "  has  a  very  quieting 
influence !" 

"  It  puts  a  feller  asleep  quicker  'n  pisen  or  chain  lightnin' !"  said  the 
woodsman. 

"  It  gives  him  the  staggers,  too!''  laughed  Jasper. 

"  Yes,  the  blind  staggers!"  cried  Macdonald,  reeling.  "  Ah,  boys,  I've  got 
'em,  certain !" 

And  he  staggered  back  from  his  gun,  with  the  smile — alas !  how  sickly, 
»ow ! — accompanying  his  jest,  still  playing  on  his  features. 

In  an  instant,  the  planter  was  at  his  side,  and  his  arms  outstretched  to 
catch  him  as  he  fell. 

"How  is  it?"  he  cried,  in  a  voice  of  em«tion;  "how  is  it,  Macdonald? 
Cheer  up,  brave  heart — cheer  up !  •  Ho,  there,"  he  cried  to  a  soldier  who 
was  approaching,  "'brandy — quick!" 

The  wounded  sergeant  shook  his  head,  faintly. 

"No  use!"  he  murmured,  with  a  faint  smile.  "  I've  got  my  passport 
Water!" 

A  moist  sponge  was  applied  to  his  lips. 

"  Let  me  take  you  down  to  the  surgeon,1'  said  Somers,  soothingly. 

"  No — no  !"  cried  the  sergeant,  faintly.  "I'm  beyond  his  aid.  My  breast 
is  shattered — look  !  Lay  me  down  on  the  platform — softly !  There — that's 
it — thank  you— thank  you  !" 

His  face  was  frightfully  pale ;  and  his  eyes  extraordinarily  clear  and  brilliant, 
produced  by  the  intensity  of  his  agony  and  the  pangs  of  approaching  death. 

"  Oh,  Macdonald — Macdonald !  cried  a  voice,  near  him.  It  was  that  of 
Marion,  who,  having  been  notified  of  the  sad  event,  now  approached  hastily 
and  took  his  hand. 

"Don't  weep  for  me,  captain!"  murmured  the  sergeant,  faintly.  "Don't 
weep  for  me,  comrades,  till  the  battle  's  over.  Then  take  me  home — do  you 
hear? — home,  and  tell  my  father  and  mother  their  boy — their  Jack — died  in 
.the  harness  of  battle,  fighting — for — his — country  !  Tell  them  that — will 
you  ?" 

10 


74  THE   SWAMP    STEED 


'  I  will,  Mac— I  will !"  answered  Marion,  unable  to  stifle  his  tears. 
"  Good  bye  captain!"  murmured  the  dying  man,  struggling,  and  reaching 
,t  >,;»  v,ar,Hs    whinh  trembled  sDasmodically.     "  I — I'm  going — erood  bye. 


out  his  hands,  which  trembled  spasmodically. 

comrades.     I'm  on  my  long  journey— dying— but  don't  let  the   cause 

freedom  die  with  me !" 

At  this  moment,  a  loud  shout  from  the  fort  rang  on  the  air,  and  reached 
his  quick,  vibrating  ears. 

"  What's  that  ?"  he  cried,  half  raising  himself,  with  a  stern,  superhuman 
effort. 

"  The  enemy  are  slipping  their  cables,  and  moving  off.  The  victory  is 
ours!"  whispered  a  voice  in  the  ear  of  Marion. 

The  dying  sergeant  overheard  it ;  and  in  an  instant  a  thrill  of  joy  shot 
through  his  frame.  With  a  last  convulsive  movement  he  sprang  to  his  feet, 
and  while  his  countenance  shone  with  an  indescribable  extacy,  he  ex- 
claimed— 

"  Huzza — huzza !     Freedom  forever !     Huzza !  huzza !  huz — ." 

He  did  not  complete  the  word ;  an  invisible  power  arrested  it  on  his  lips. 
Marion  and  the  planter  lowered  him  gently  on  the  floor  of  the  platform,  and 
applied  a  sponge  moistened  with  brandy  to  his  lips.  But  there  was  no  action 
of  nature  in  response.  The  spirit  of  the  brave  sergeant  had  taken  its  last 
farewell  of  earth,  and  passed  away  forever ! 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  news  of  the  patriots'  victory  ran  through  the  colony  like  wildfire. 
The  loyalists  were  lost  in  astonishment.  The  republicans  were  thrown  into 
enthusiasm.  Men,  women  and  children  partook  of  the  general  joy;  fear  of 
the  royal  cohorts  melted  into  a  consciousness  of  their  own  strength.  The 
clouds  were  pierced,  broken  and  scattered  by  the  bright  rays  of  Hope  for 
Young  America. 

The  tories  scarcely  knew  what  to  think  or  do ;  and  they  wisely  resolved 
to  wait  and  see  how  the  king  would  bear  the  intelligence  of  his  defeat 
Eichard  Winter  was  one  of  these  ;  and  as  his  hopes  of  vengeance  fell,  he  de- 
termined while  the  tide  of  his  political  strength  as  a  loyalist  was  ebbing  and 
returning,  to  make  the  best  of  his  time  and  talents  in  other  matters.  One  of 
the  latter  was  the  advancement  of  his  private  fortunes ;  and  the  means,  mat- 
rimony. 

Accordingly,  we  find  him,  on  the  morning  of  a  fine  day  in  July,  at  the 
door  of  the  wealthy  Mrs.  Brunton's.  He  knocked,  and  was  shown  into  the 
drawing  room. 

The  beauty  of  the  fair  widow  had  attracted  him ;  but  her  wealth  had  done 
more— it  fascinated  him.  Let  us,  however,  do  ton  the  justice  to  say  he 
loved  the  lady  for  her  own  sake  to  an  extent  that  would  have  induced  him, 
if  she  were  poor,  to  woo  her  for  his  mistress  ;  but  the  case  being  reversed, 
to  make  her  his  wife. 

Richard  Winter  had  been  in  the  drawing  room  but  a  few  minutes  wheu 
Mrs.  Brunton  made  her  appearance.  She  was  dressed  as  she  always  was — 
for  a  conquest;  but  without  any  idea  of  taking  any  other  advantage  of  her 
triumph,  than  to  enhance  a  reputation  already  famous  for  its  victories.  She 
received  him  with  her  usual  politeness ;  that  is  to  say,  with  the  same  con- 
sideration she  would  have  shown  to  any  gentleman  of  her  acquaintance 

Mrs.  Brunton  understood  the  general  motives  which  brought  her  visitor  to 
her  house,  and  was  gifted  with  sufficient  penetration  to  guage  the  depths  of 
his  sincerity.  She  understood  her  guest  in  this  respect,  better  perhaps  than 


OF    MAttiOX    AND    HIS    ME11RY    MEN.  76 

he  understood  himself .  and  ,v;is  fully  prepared  to  appreciate  all  he  might 
have  to  say  relative  to  the  object  for.  which  he  had  honored  her  with  his  call 
"You  are  really  charming  to-day,  madam!"  he  said,  as  the  initiatory  sal- 
utations on  both  sides  passed  away. 

'•'  Indeed !"  answered  the  widow,  with  one  of  her  killing  smiles.     ;i  That  is 
compliment,  coming  from  you  who  are  so  seldom  guilty  of  giving  one  to 


And  therefore  the  more  sincere !  I  never  flatter  except  when  it  is  de- 
served !" 

"  Keally !  I  deserve  it,  then  ?" 

"  Most  certainly.     Are  you  not  positively  beautiful  ?" 

"  I  presume  it  must  be  so,"  answered  Mrs.  Brunton,  with  a  low,  clear 
laugh,  "for  they  all  tell  me  so !'' 

"You  speak  as  if  you  rated  me  with  the  common  flatterers,  who  ever  haag 
upon  the  footsteps  of  beauty."  . 

"  Oh,  dear,  no  ;  far  from  it.  I  have  never  considered  you  as  a  common 
flatterer.  Quite  the  reverse,  I  assure  you !"  said  the  widow,  with  a  torment- 
ing smile,  strongly  blended  with  maliciousness. 

"  You  mean  something  ?" 

"  Certainly.     I  wish  to  provoke  you  into  an  argument." 

"  With  all  my  heart.  With  so  fair  an  antagonist  I'd  argue  »  point  tul 
doomsday.  Come,  begin!" 

'•'You  say  I'm  chyming?'1 

"  And  I'll  maintain  it." 

"  Stop — stop — stop !"  cried  Mrs.  Brunton,  playfully  raising  her  finger. 
"You  say  I'm  charming,  and  that  therefore  I  deserve  the  compliment  of  being 
told  so." 

"Well?" 

"  Is  that  your  position  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  And  do  you  dream  of  maintaining  it  ?" 

"  Against  all  the  world !" 

"  Oh,  shocking  creature !  Why,  I  could  bring  a  hundred  men,  collected  in- 
discriminately, each  one  of  whom  would  laugh  at  you  for  taking  it." 

"  He'd  answer  for  his  impudence,  then  !" 

"Not  at  all !"  observed  the  widow,  maliciously. 

"  How  ?  You  doubt  my  earnestness  in  advancing  the  sentiment,  and  my 
ability  to  defend  it?" 

"Your  earnestness,  no ;  your  ability  to  defend  it,  yes  !" 

"  Really,  madam,  you  are  very  provoking.  Show  me  wherein  my  position 
is  untenable." 

"  Listen,  then.     Beauty  is  not  a  merit,  but  an  accidental  qualification." 

"  Granted." 

"  Then  why  compliment  it  ?  Nothing  should  be  flattered,  that  is  to  say 
commended,  unless  it  be  junerit,  which  beauty,  being  an  accidental  qualifi- 
cation, is  not"  ^fe 

"  Nay,  it  is !" 

"A  merit?" 

"  Yes." 

"You  shock  me!" 

"  Still,  I  say — a  merit !" 

"Your  assurance  amazes  me!" 

"  It  does  ?  Hear  me  then,  in  justification.  Beauty  is  one  of  the  attri- 
butee  of  angels.  God  gave  it  them  to  make  them  perfect,  as  He  did  Truth 
and  Purity,  of  which  it  is  the  Twin  Sister  ;  and  it  is  the  three  united  which 
make  them  angels — that  is  to  say,  inhabitants  of  heaven.  Why,  then  should 
we  not  applaud  in  woman  that  which  allies  her  to  the  pure  of  the  Purest 


76  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DAYS 

Kingdom  ?  Why  should  we  not  commend  in  the  fair  of  earth,  that  which 
is  at  once  an  index  of  their  purity,  and  a  divine  seal  attesting  their  rela- 
tionship to  the  favorites  of  God  ?" 

"  Ah !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brunton,  with  her  usual  vivacity,  "  that  is  a  very 
pretty  idea !  Where  did  you  pick  it  up  ?  It  certainly  cannot  be  original 
with  you!" 

"  Why  not,  madam  ?" 

"  Simply  because  it  is  a  charming  sentiment,  and  not  at  all  in  keeping  with 
your  plain,  matter-of-fact  character !" 

Richard  Winter's  brow  assumed  a  sombre  expression. 

The  widow  paid  no  attention  to  it  however,  but  went  on  as  if  utterly  un- 
conscious of  her  rudeness. 

"  Oh,  I'll  wager  now,  I  can  tell  the  bush  from  which  you  plucked  your  sen- 
timental flower." 

"  Q-o  on,  then,  madam,"  said  Richard  Winter,  with  a  gloomy  smile. 

"  You  have  been  to  church  of  late,  a  rare  thing  for  you  who  regard  reli- 
gion so  lightly — and  retained  in  your  memory  one  of  the  dreamy  fancies  of 
the  minister !" 

Winter  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"  Wrong  ?    Then  you  have  been  down  to  Charleston  since  the  battle." 

"  What  would  that  prove  ?" 

"  Say  rather  what  would  it  not  prove  ?  Sentiment  is  the  prevailing  com- 
modity there,  since  the  victory ;  and  every  body  is  repotting  quotations  from 
the  numerous  brilliant  addresses  of  your  old  friend.  How  do  I  know  your 
speech  is  not  one  of  them  ?  It  is  very  much  in  his  style  !" 

"  Really,  she  is  very  provoking !  "muttered  Winter,  in  an  under  tone.  "  To 
whom  do  you  allude,  madam  ?"  he  said,  aloud. 

"  To  whom  but  your  old  friend !" 

"  That  leaves  me  in  the  dark  as  much  as  ever.  I  have  many  old  friends. 
To  which  of  them  do  you  refer  ?" 

"To  him  who  is  most  eminent  for  his  merits." 

"Ah!  I  understand  you,  now — you  mean  his  excellency,  the  governor?" 

"  Not  at  all.  He  is  eminent  for  his  position  only.  I  never  heard  that  he 
had  any  particular  merit.  Besides,  he  would  not  be  likely  to  be  engaged 
in  making  gratulatory  addresses.  His  party  was  defeated,  I  think!" 

"  Confound  her !"  muttered  Winter,  "  she  is  in  her  tantrums  to-day  1 
Every  word  she  utters  is  a  premeditated  insult.  But,  patience !  when  herself 
and  property  are  mine,  I'll  make  her  wince  for  this !"  He  cleared  up  his 
brow,  and  assuming  one  of  his  most  suave  smiles,  said  aloud :  "  Will  you  con- 
tinue to  torment  me,  fair  lady,  by  baffling  my  every  effort  to  learn  whom  you 
hint  at?  Pray  give  me  some  generous  clue." 

"  Psha !  You  are  very  stupid  !  Who  can  I  mean  but  him  whose  name  is 
the  synonime  of  honor,  heroism  and  genius  ;  to  whom  but  him,  who  when  he 
speaks,  charms  every  ear  by  the  music  of  his  tones  and  the  grandeur  of  his 
sentiments ;  to  whom  but  him  who  when  he  speakfcdrives  from  the  bosoms  of 
his  auditors  every  baser  feeling,  and  fills  them  with  emotions  grand  and 
noble  as  his  own !" 

"Ah !  madam,"  said  Winter  ironically,  "  it  has  not  been  my  lot  to  come  in 
contact  with  one  of  such  superior  attainments  I  You  speak  as  if  among  my 
friends  I  counted  a  demi-god." 

"  I  speak  of  one,"  said  Mrs.  Brunton,  perfectly  apprehending  the  jealous 
character  of  her  companion,  "  whose-fame  as  a  soldier  is  on  every  lip  ;  whose 
genius  as  an  orator  is  the  theme  of  every  party ;  whose  virtues  as  a  man  have 
elevated  him  above  the  reach  of  malice,  which  ever  springs  from  envy ;  I 
speak  of  the  orator  of  Kingstree  green,  and  the  hero  of  Fort  Sullivan's-  great 
gun  ;  I  speak  of  your  old  neighbor,  and  sometime  friend :  Neil  Somers !" 

Richard  Winter's  countenance  was  livid  in  an  instant. 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  77 

"  Curse  her !"  he  muttered.  ;<  Could  she  not  have  called  up  any  other 
name  than  that — a  name  my  lips  cannot  pronounce  without  blistering— a  name 
that  summons  from  their  caves  all  the  black  blood  of  my  nature  !  Oh,  if  I  but 
succeed  in  making  this  woman  mine,  what  a  long  list  of  insults  I'll  make  her 
wash  out  in  tears — aye,  scalding  ones — of  misery !"  Wreathing  his  features 
into  a  smile,  he  said :  "  and  you  charge  me  with  borrowing  his  style — his !" 

'•  You  deny  it,  then  ?"  said  Mrs.  Brunton,  in  a  tone  of  surprise.  "  Really  ! 
Mr.  Whiter,  I  didn't  think  it  of  ypu  !" 

This  was  said  with  an  air  of  such  mingled  astonishment  and  ridicule  that 
her  companion  could  scarcely  contain  himself.  It  appeared  very  evident  to 
him  that  it  was  the  widow's  intention  to  crush  him  ;  but  whether  playfully 
or  in  earnest,  he  could  not  decide. 

"  I  deny  nothing,"  answered  Richard  Winter,  venturing  on  a  smile.  "  It 
would  be  the  height  of  presumption  in  me  to  contradict  a  lady !  But  be  as- 
sured of  this;  when  I  so  far  forget  what  is  due  to  myself  to  borrow  from  one 
whom  I  regard  as  a  mere  noisy  panderer  to  the  mob,  it  jvill  be  when  my 
senses  have  deserted  me — not  sooner !" 

Mrs.  Brunton's  eyes  shone  like  a  basilisk's.  She  could  not  hear  the  man 
she  idolized  spoken  of  thus,  without  rising  to  defend  him. 

"You  speak  rather  light  of  your  sister's  betrothed!"  she  said,  freezingly. 
"  What  would  Amy  say  if  she  heard  you  talk  thus  ?" 

"  He  is  not  her  betrothed,  madam,"  returned  Richard  Winter,  "  and,  so  help 
me  heaven !  never  shall  be !  I  had  rather  see  her  in  her  shroud  than  the 
wife  of  so  bold  and  insolent  a  rebel  1" 

"  You  speak  rather  warmly  upon  the  matter,  Mr.  Winter.  Are  those  your 
father's  sentiments?"  asked  the  widow,  with  an  expression  of  calmness  which 
was  not  at  all  in  harmony  with  her  feelings. 

"  They  are,  madam !" 

Mrs.  Brunton's  heart  nearly  leapt  from  her  breast  with  joy. 

"  There  is  hop*  for  me  !"  she  murmured.  "  Amy  lost  to  him,  what  shall 
hinder  his  loving  me!  And  Amy,"  she  said  aloud,  "what  will  prevent  her 
from  becoming  his  wife,  if  she  desires  it  ?" 

"  Her  father's  curse,  and  mine !" 

"  Is  that  to  be  the  price  of  her  union  with  the  man  she  loves  ?" 

Richard  Winter  bowed. 

"Really,  you  men  are  very  cruel!"  observed  Mrs.  Brunton  in  a  tone  of 
railery,  for  the  purpose  of  drawing  him  out.  "  I  don't  know  what  I  should 
do  if  I  were  in  love,  and  had  such  a  cruel  father  and  so  ungenerous  a  brother ! 
I  think  I  should  be  tempted  to  run  away  with  my  lover,  in  spite  of  them!" 

"  And  that,  madam,  is  what  Amy  will  never  do !  Love  will  never  induce 
her  to  forget  the  filial  duty  she  owes  to  the  author  of  her  being !" 

"  You  are  sure  of  that  ?" 

"  I  am  so  certain  of  it,  madam,  that  I  would  stake  my  life  upon  it!" 

This  assurance  sent  a  thrill  of  joy  through  Mrs.  Brunton. 

1"  It  was  this  I  most  desired  to  know !"  she  murmured.  "  Be  not  too  sure," 
she  said,  aloud,  while  a  smile,  which  Winter  took  for  playfulness,  illumined 
her  features ;  "  we  women  are  not  so  simple  in  our  love  affairs  as  you  of  the 
sterner  sex  are  apt  to  deem  us !  For  the  man  we  love,  we  abandon  father 
and  mother,  brother  and  sister,  and  follow  him  to  the  end  of  the  world.  We 
say  to  the  owner  of  our  heart  as  Ruth  said  to  Naomi,  '  Whither  thou  goest  I 
will  go ;  where  thou  lodgest  I  will  lodge  ;  thy  people  shall  be  my  people,  and 
thy  God  my  God !' " 

"  As  Ruth  said  to  her  mother  Naomi,"  replied  Richard  Winter,  "  so  saith 
Amy  to  her  father.  Ruth  was  not  more  devoted  in  her  filial  love  than  my 


"But,"  said  Mrs.  Brunton,  determined  on  cornering  him  and  discovering 
if  there  were  nothing  hidden  and  untold,  as  well  as  of  learning  if  there  were 


78  THE    SWAMP    STEED  |    OR    THE    PATS 

no  coercive  plan  in  view,  and  if  not,  of  throwing  out  a  hint  for  one,  "  there 
are  times  in  woman's  life  when  love  is  stronger  than  duty.  In  such  hours, 
should  the  voice  of  the  heart's  idol  be  near,  duty  is  forgot,  love  alone  remem- 

"I  have  thought  of  that,"  said  Richard  Winter,  unsuspiciously,  "and  made 
provision  for  it." 

"  He  falls  into  the  snare !"  murmured  Mrs.  Brunton.  "  You  astonish  me !" 
she  said  aloud.  "  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to  give  you  credit  for  superior  ge- 
nius, too!" 

Winter  smiled,  gloomily. 

"  It  is  our  intention  to  wed  her  to  another,"  he  said. 

"  What— whether  she  will  or  no  ?     That  is  cruel !" 

"  Nay,  she  shall  have  a  chance  to  like  him  first  'Twill  be  an  easy  matter 
then,  to  her,  and  no  cruelty  in  us." 

"  That  were  a  stroke  of  genius,  indeed !  Pray  who  is  the  party  ?  He  should 
be  a  good  and  amiable  fellow  to  take  the  place  in  her  affections  of  such  a 
man  as  Somers.  Who  is  he  ?" 

"  Frederick  Crampton." 

"  You  make  me  laugh !  He  drive  from  her  heart  the  image  of  such  a  man 
as  Somers !  You  are  jesting !" 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  And  does  your  father  approve  of  such  a  proceeding  ?" 

"  With  your  leave,  yes  !" 

"  With  my  leave,  indeed !  what  impudence !  When  is  the  affair  to  come 
off?" 

"  As  soon  as  we  can  bring  it  about.     It  rests  in  the  main  with  Crampton  !" 

"  With  him !  The  faithless  fellow !  I'm  vexed !  Do  you  know  the  wretch 
had  the  impudence  to  make  love  to  me  ?" 

"  Who,  Crampton  ?" 

"  Crampton !  If  it  were  not  for  the  trouble,  I  might  take  a  lady's  privi- 
lege at  this  evidence  of  his  faithlessness,  and  go  off  into  hysterics!" 

"  How  charmingly  she  pouts !''  murmured  Winter.  "  You  take  an  interest 
in  him,  then  ?"  he  said. 

"  Certainly ;  the  same  I  feel  in  any  poodle.  He  is  too  tender  to  go  into 
rough  company." 

"  Which  you  consider — " 

"  Yourself!"  returned  Mrs.  Brunton.  "  With  you  he  will  soon  lose  his 
character." 

"  Thank  you !"  said  Whiter,  with  a  low  ironic  bow.  "  What  character  will 
Mr.  Crampton  lose  by  associating  with  me  ?" 

"  His  puppyism !  You  are  too  matter-of-fact  a  personage  not  to  impart 
enough  of  your  manner  to  rub  off  his  effeminacy.  A  little  while  in  your  so- 
ciety, and  he  will  become  somewhat  of  a  man." 

"  Ah!  thank  you,  and  this  time  in  earnest !"  said  Winter,  with  a  grateful 
bow.  "  Ah,  lady,"  he  added,  with  an  air  of  genuine  feeling,  "  you  have  a  rare 
talent!" 

"Indeed!     I  was  not  aware  of  it.     For  what?"         • 

"  For  throwing  men  first  on  a  bush  of  flowers,  then  on  another  of  thorns." 

"Flattering  again!"  said  Mrs.  Brunton,  throwing  up  her  forefinger  archly. 

"G-ood!"  murmured  Winter,  "I  have  made  a  point.  That  compliment 
makes  her  eyes  sparkle.  I  must  follow  it  up !  Surely,"  he  said  aloud,  "  you 
would  not  object  to  one's  uttering  a  truth  simply  because  it  might  be  pane- 
gyrical?" 

"Oh!  no,"  answered  the  widow,  comprehending  his  thought;  "to  do  that 
would  be  to  close  the  lips  of  my  friends,  who  appear  to  visit  me  for  no  other 
purpose !  They  take  such  liberties  ;  why  should  not  you?" 

1  I'm  off  again!"  muttered  her  companion,  gnawing  his  lip.     "I  thought  1 


OF-  MARION    AND    HIS    M1TRRY    MEN.  79 

had  gained  a  point,  but  find  I  have  lost  one !  She  eats  like  a  butcher,  and 
will  not  let  me  advance  a  step.  But,  nil  desperandum — she  is  worthy  of  a 
struggle — that  is  to  say,  her  property !  Is  it  set  down  in  your  code,  madam," 
he  said  aloud,  "  that  a  gentleman  may  not  tell  a  lady  what  he  thinks  of  her, 
simply  because  his  opinion  is  a  flattering  one  ?" 

"  In  words,  yes;  in  actions,  no.  Flattery  direct,  though  couched  in  ever 
rfuch  artful  guise,  is  indelicate,  because  it  seeks  to  captivate  the  senses.  Ac- 
tions on  the  contrary  appeal  to  our  intelligence,  and  are  reliable,  if  consistent 
Any  gentleman  may  throw  out  a  compliment ;  but  only  one  in  ten  is  able  or 
willing  to  attest  his  sincerity  by  a  consistent  series  of  appeals  to  our  judg- 
ment" 

"  How  is  a  gentleman  to  show  that  he  is  sincere  ?  Tell  me  by  what  course 
of  conduct:  for  I  am  anxious  to  evince  mine!" 

He  blushed  as  he  spoke  ;  for  he  was  conscious  that  he  had  blundered  into 
what  might  be  considered  a  declaration. 

The  widow  saw  his  mis-step ;  but  had  no  disposition  to  allow  him  to  per- 
ceive it. 

"  If  that  really  were  the  case,"  she  observed,  "  you  would  soon  find  a  plan 
of  action  to  enable  you  to  demonstrate  it!" 

"Foiled  again!"  murmured  Winter.  "Every  step  I  make,  plunges  me 
deeper  than  ever  into  the  mire.  I  must  recede !  There  is  no  getting  along 
with  you,"  he  said  laughingly.  "You  are  without  mercy!" 

"  You  have  no  right  to  say  so,"  returned  Mrs.  Brunton ;  "  you  have  been 
acting  on  the  offensive,  without  pausing  for  an  instant,  or  asking  for  quarter. 
If  you  have  not  come  off  victor,  attribute  not  the  fault  to  me !'' 

"  Nay,"  returned  her  ror^iaiiion,  "  in  a  game  of  sharps  with  you,  fair  lady, 
an  antagonist  is  fortunate  if  he  come  off  with  even  a  show  of  life  ?  But  let  us 
change  the  subject.'1 

"To  what?" 

"  Amy's  marriage  with  Crampton.  You  can  assist  us  in  bringing  it  about. 
Say  you  will!" 

"Why  should  I. say  that?" 

"Because  it  will  advance  her  happiness." 

"Do  you  believe  so?5' 

"  Ultimately,  yes,"  replied  Winter,  without  shrinking  from  her  piercing 
gaze.  "  You  are  friendly  to  us  alL  Amy  has  confidence  in  your  friendship 
as  well  as  in  your  judgment.  A  timely  word  from  you  in  Crampton's  favor, 
might  do  much  in  hastening  a  match  fraught  with  so  much  interest  I" 

"  To  me,  0  how  much!"  murmured  Mrs.  Brunton.  "  I  thought  you  said  it 
depended  altogether  on  Mr.  Crampton,"  she  observed. 

"  So  far  as  the  urging  of  his  suit  was  concerned,  only.  He  is  vain  enough 
to  suppose  himself  irresistible,  and  innocently  fancies  that  whea  he  makes  a 
proposal,  he  will  meet  with  no  denial" 

"  But  what  if  Amy  were  disposed  to  accept  him  ?" 

"  He  would  propose  in  an  instant" 

"  Are  you  confident  of  that  ?" 

:i  Quite.     Will  you  assist  us  ?" 

i:  I'll  think  the  matter  over.  I  feel  a  deep  interest  in  Amy's  happiness, 
and  if  I  succeed  in  persuading  myself  that  such  a  step  would  be  for  her  wel- 
fare, I  shall  most  assuredly  do  my  best  to  urge  it  I" 

"  Nay,  it  would,"  said  Richard  Winter  earnestly.  "  Somers  is  a  rebel, 
and  wifi,  sooner  or  later,  reach  the  rebel's  award — the  scaffold ;  for  it  is  idle  to 
suppose  that  the  king  will  brook  this  treasonable  insolence  of  the  people  any 
longer  than  he  can  send  over  a  few  squadrons  to  punish  them.  When  that 
day  comes,  and  it  must  come,  what  will  be  the  fate  of  this  ranter  of  Kingstree 
green  ?  and  what  the  fate  of  the  creature  unfortunate  enough  to  become  his 


gO  THE    SWAMP   STEED  J    OR   THE   DAYS 

wife  ?  It  is  to  save  Amy  from  such  certain  wretchedness  that  I  would 
ally  her  to  one  with  whom  she  will  have  tranquility,  if  not  happiness." 

"  Solemn  hypocrite !"  muttered  Mrs.  Brunton.  "  Your  logic  is  very  good," 
she  said,  with  an  air  of  apparent  conviction,  "  and  I  see  no  good  reason  for 
not  believing  it  to  be  correct." 

"  You  will  assist  us,  then  ?" 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  widow,  thoughtfully.  "  Amy's  happiness  is  dear  to 
me ;  and  I  suppose  I  must !" 

"  Thank  you— thank  you  !     I  will  now  take  my  leave." 

"  So  soon .?" 

"Nay,  I  have  broken  in  upon  your  time  too  much  already.     Adieu  !" 

And  he  passed  from  the  apartment  and  the  house, muttering :  "I  may  not 
succeed  in  making  her  my  wife ;  but  I  will  in  making  her  a  tool  of  my  re- 
venge!" 

Mrs.  Brunton  looked  after  him  through  the  window  curtains,  with  a 
thoughtful  air. 

"Everything  works  favorably !"  she  murmured,  her  countenance  radiant 
with  delight.  "  Will  I  assist  him  in  coercing  Amy's  unioa  with  Crampton, 
when  it  so  materially  affects  my  own  purposes  ?  Say,  rather,  will  I  not  ? 
Kichard  Winter — Richard  Winter,  I  will  be  your  ally  in  this,  or  rather  you 
shall  be  mine :  for  it  is  me  you  are  helping,  it  is  me  you  are  ridding  of  a  rival, 
silly  wight  that  you  are !  in  bringing  about  this  union !  I  was  looking  for  a 
means  to  drive  Amy  from  Neil's  hopes,  and  it  is  here!  I  was  looking  for  a 
confederate  with  whom  I  could  work  without  danger  to  myself,  and  lo !  here 
he  is !  And  better  than  all !  one  to  whom  I  need  impart  no  confidence,  re- 
veal no  secret ;  and,  while  I  apparently  aid  him  in  his  views,  use  him  as  an 
instrument  to  ensure  success  to  mine !  And  the  silly  fool,  too,  would  for- 
sooth try  to  win  this  heart — this  heart  which  throbs  for  Somers,  will  throb 
for  him  alone  of  all  men  in  the  world,  or,  failing  to  get  him,  will  thenceforth 
cease  its  throbs  forever  !  Winter  and  Somers — what  a  contrast !  The  one 
a  compound  of  all  that  is  base,  the  other  an  embodiment  of  all  that  is  noble ; 
the  one  a  creature  of  passion,  the  other  a  being  of  judgment;  the  one  crafty 
and  unforgiving,  the  other  thoughtful  and  magnanimous ;  the  one  an  ignoble 
wolf,  the  other  a  majestic  lion !  And  the  wolf  dares  aspire  to  a  heart  which 
beats  alone  for  the  lion !  And  shall  he  persist  in  his  aspirations  ?  As  a  bait 
to  invite  others  forward  he  would  be  useful,  had  I  any  common  man  in  view ; 
but  with  one  like  Somers  the  case  is  altered :  a  bait  there  would  be  not  only 
superfluous  but  dangerous.  It  is  evident  therefore  that  Winter  must  not  be 
fed  with  hopes,  as  they  might  make  him  presumptuous  at  an  improper  season. 
I'll  keep  him  on,  however,  and  dally  with  him  till  my  stake  is  won,  and 
then  send  him  adrift  0  Somers,  Somers !"  she  added  after  a  brief  pause, 
"  what  thoughts  and  schemes,  all  unworthy  of  a  woman,  are  the  price  of  thy 
conquest,  thy  love!" 


CHAPTER    XI. 

ABOUT  three  days  subsequent  to  the  incidents  described  in  the  preceding 
chapter,  a  young  man,  of  a  slender  but  rather  genteel  figure,  dressed  with  a 
great  deal  of  care  and  a  fair  share  of  taste,  might  have  been  seen,  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  walking  leisurly  along  the  Georgetown  Road.  There 
was  that  in  his  general  deportment  which  pronounced  him  one  of  those  who 
entertain  a  very  favorable  opinion  of  themselves,  and  who  innocently  fancy 
that  no  one  can  look  upon  them  without  being  impressed  with  a  conviction 
of  their  greatness. 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  81 

It  was,  in  fact,  our  old  acquaintance,  Frederick  Crampton,  on  his  way  to 
the  Winter  plantation,  to  pay  his  respects  to  Miss  Amy. 

"  Some  people,"  murmured  the  exquisite,  conversing  confidentially  with 
himself,  as  he  passed  along,  "  have  a  vewy  poor  ideah  of  the  pre-requisites 
for  making  an  impwession.  I  flattah  myself  I  am  not  one  of  that  number. 
The  fact  is,  there  is  nothing  like  a  natuwal'  taste  in  such  matters,  which  I 
flattah  myself  I  have.  It  stwikes  me  it  will  not  be  vewy  difficult  to  make  an 
impwession  on  Miss  Wintah,  if  I  set  about  it.  To  be  sure,  I  hav'nt  made 
any  vewy  gweat  pwogwess  as  yet ;  but  that  is  because  I  have  not  laid  my- 
self out  to  do  so.  To-day,  howevah,  I  shall  make  an  effort,  and  of  course 
Miss  Wintah  will  find  it  extwemely  difficult  to  wesist  me !" 

With  ideas  like  these,  Mr.  Frederick  Crampton  pursued  his  way  towards 
the  Winter  plantation.  The  atmosphere  was  very  warm,  and  as  the  roadside 
was  but  poorly  shaded,  the  exquisite,  to  avoid  the  heat  of  thft  sun,  turned 
off  to  the  left  and  struck  into  a  wood,  leading,  by  a  shorter  route,  to  the 
place  of  his  destination. 

Once  in  the  wood,  his  progress  was  rather  slower  than  before,  in  conse- 
quence of  a  desire  on  his  part  to  preserve  his  garments  from  the  slightest 
contact  with  the  timber. 

He  had  penetrated  the  sombre  depths  of  the  wood  dbout  three  hundred 
yards,  when  he  suddenly  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a  magnificent  coal 
black  steed,  whose  large  clear  eyes  were  fixed  upon  him  with  an  expression 
of  surprise. 

The  gallant  animal  was  both  saddled  and  bridled.  He  was  young  and 
spirited,  superbly  shaped,  with  a  deep  flowing  mane,  tapering  legs  and  a 
long  switch  tail.  He  carried  his  head  with  the  air  of  an  Arabian,  and  was 
in  fact  among  horses,  what  Crampton  was  among  men — an  exquisite. 

Frederick  Crampton,  a  capital  judge  of  horseflesh,  was  stupefied  with  ad- 
miration at  the  appearance  of  this  noble  animal,  whose  intelligence  was  writ- 
ten in  its  eye,  and  whose  trustiness  was  evidenced  in  the  fact  that  its  owner 
had  left  it  without  a  halter. 

The  exquisite  was  for  a  time  lost  in  astonishment  at  the  animal's  brilliant 
points,  the  magnificence  of  which  he  had  never  before  seen  equalled. 

His  admiration  soon  gave  way,. however,  to  uneasiness,  as  the  idea  uprose 
in  his  mind  that  he  had  seen  the  animal  on  a  previous  occasion.  There 
would  have  been  nothing  very  alarming  in  this,  which  was  after  all  merely 
an  incident  of  memory,  had  it  not  been  attended  by  another,  viz :  a  remem- 
brance of  the  person  of  its  owner. 

This  was  a  phantom  of  the  memory  which  the  exquisite  was  far  from  pre- 
pared to  encounter ;  for  in  that  phantom  he  recognized  Neil  Somers,  and  in 
him  a  rival.  Therefore — it  was  this  which  most  troubled  the  exquisite — if 
his  horse  was  here,  saddled  and  bridled,  it  was  more  than  likely  the  planter 
himself  could  not  be  far  off. 

Worse  still — so  reasoned  the  exquisite — this  road  led  to  the  Winter  planta- 
tion, was  in  fact  a  part  of  that  property,  and  one  through  which  no  one 
would  be  likely  to  pass  unless  for  the  purpose  of  reaching  the  house  by  a 
shorter  route  than  the  road.  What  then  could  Somers,  who  was  on  such  un- 
friendly terms  with  the  Winters,  whose  appearance  on  then-  threshold  would 
be  the  signal  of  an  insult,  be  doing  in  it  ?  The  exquisite  grew  uneasy  as  he 
asked  himself  this  question  ;  for  he  felt  satisfied  there  was  but  one  member 
of  the  Winter  household  whose  brow  would  not  blacken  into  a  frown  if  the 
planter  was  known  to  set  foot  upon  their  grounds  :  and  that  person,  that 
person — (the  exquisite's  lips  became  livid  as  he  murmured  it) — was  the  only 
one  whose  frown  was  worth  the  heeding,  the  only  one  whose  smile  was  worth 
the  having. 

"Demnition!'  muttered  the  exquisite,  "my  blood  is  getting  ugly!  If 
after  I  have  taken  so  much  twouble  to  wender  myself  agweeable,  I  should 


82  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

discover  that  Miss  Wintah  is  in  the  habit  of  meeting  that  vulgah  fellow,  the 
nlantah,  in  the  wood  here,  I  think  I  should  get  vewy,  vewy  angwy !  It  is 
vewy  stupid  to  do  so,  I  admit,  but  there  are  situations  when  anger  becomes 
DwoDcr  vcwy  pwopcr ! 

He  passed  through  the  devious  windings  of  the  wood,  Mowed  by  the  large 
starin^  eyes  of  the  horse,  till  he  came  to  a  spot  where  the  underbrush  began 
to  assume  a  rather  dense  character,  through  which,  however,  he  was  about  to 
penetrate,  when  his  footsteps  were  suddenly  arrested  by  the  sound  of  voices, 
which  were  familiar  to  his  ear. 

"  Demnition !"  he  murmured,  cautiously  drawing  back  a  step  or  two,  and 
seeking  the  friendly  shelter  of  a  huge  palmetto.  "  They  are  here !  If  I  had 
a  wifle  now,  I  think  I  should  be  tempted  to  blow  the  vulgah  fellow's  bwains 
out !  But  as  I  have  no  weapon,  I  pwesume  I  must  make  the  best  of  it !  I'll 
tell  Wichard,  though,  about  it,  and  see  if  his  authority  isn't  stwong  enough 
fco  put  a  stop  to  these  stolen  interviews !  Here  I'm  paying  my  addwesses  to 
Miss  Wintah,  and  I  detect  her  holding  clandestine  meetings  with  another. 
It  is  enough  to  make  one  swear.  Demnition !  if  my  mother  heard  of  it, 
what  would  she  say !" 

And  throwing  hie  eyes  cautiously  through  the  underwood,  hi  the  direction 
of  the  voices,  he  beheld  the  planter  and  Miss  Winter  seated  beside  each  other 
on  a  mossy  mound  situated  between  two  towering  and  broad-trunked  trees. 
What  rendered  the  scene  more  aggravating  to  the  exquisite  was  the  fact 
that  the  planter's  right  arm  encircled  his  lovely  companion's  waist,  the  fingers 
of  his  left  hand  were  interlaced  in  those  of  her  right,  while  his  shoulder 
served  as  a  resting  place  for  her  brow. 

The  exquisite's  cheek,  already  pale,  at  sight  of  this,  became  absolutely  livid. 
His  fingers  involuntarily  rolled  in  towards  the  palms  and  buried  themselves 
in  the  flesh. 

At  the  same  moment  a  sense  of  his  position  came  across  him,  and,  fearful 
of  discovery,  he  moved  slowly  and  noislessly  around  to  the  rear  of  the  huge 
palmetto,  against  which  he  leaned  for  support ;  for  in  truth,  the  scene  we 
have  just  described  had  totally  unnerved  him. 

"It  is  shocking,"  he  murmured,  while  a  shade  of  agony  swept  across  his 
forehead,  "  vewy  shocking !  I  didn't  expect  it  of  her !  As  for  the  plan  tab, 
there  is  something  gathering  here  against  him !" 

And  he  smote  his  breast  with  a  clenched  but  trembling  hand. 

"  I  must  leave  this,"  he  muttered,  in  a  few  moments,  as  his  nerves  became 
some  what  more  tranquil :  "it  is  vewy  ungentlemanly  to  play  the  part  of  an 
eaves-dwopper.  I  should  never  forgive  myself  for  such  an  outwage  on  pwo- 
pwiety,  nevah.  It  would  nevah  do,  nevah.  I  weally  must  go  away  !p 

But  to  do  this,  without  being  seen  was,  at  the  present  stage,  a  feat  more 
easily  thought  of  than  performed  ;  for  the  lovers  had  now  so  changed  their 
position  as  to  have  a  full  view  of  everything  before  them  ;  and  to  the  ex- 
quisite's horror,  their  faces  were  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  tree  behind 
which  he  was  crouching  for  concealment. 

He  sighed,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  now  no  hope  for 
him,  and  that  he  must,  however  much  against  his  inclination,  become  a  list- 
ener to  the  conversation  of  the  lovers. 

To  do  him  justice,  the  position  in  which  he  found  himself  was  a  source  of 
great  distress  to  the  exquisite,  who  could  not  reconcile  it  as  in  any  way  be- 
coming a  gentleman,  a  character  for  which  he  had  a  most  exalted  respect, 
and  one  which  he  was  very  ambitious  to  sustain. 

To  crown  his  wretchedness  in  this  respect,  he  beheld  the  large  black  orbs 
of  the  intelligent  swamp  steed  staring  at  him  reproachfully  throtigh  the  trees. 
Had  it  been  a  human  witness,  the  exquisite  could  not  have  felt  the  mortifying 
stigma  of  his  situation  more  plainly. 

"I  shall  dwop  diwectly  !"  he  murmured,  wiping  from  hi?  brow  .sweat  that 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  83 

cajne  leaping  to  its  surface  in  large  beads,  "I  know  I  shall ;  and  then  they 
will  discover  me,  and  I  shall  be  disgwaced  forever !  If  my  mother  were  .to 
see  me,  what  would  she  say  ?  Her  heart  would  break  with  shame !" 

Perceiving  then  that  an  attempt  to  escape  from  his  ernbarrasing  position 
would,  by  leading  to  his  exposure,  result  in  plunging  him  into  one  still  more 
humiliating,  the  exquisite  resolved  to  remain  where  his  ill  stars  had  placed 
him,  and  bide  the  issue  of  events,  magnanimously  determining  at  the  same 
time,  as  a  compromise  with  his  nice  sense  of  honor,  to  let  his  knowledge  of 
this  interview  between  the  lovers,  together  with  everything  he  might  over- 
hear, pass  away  into  oblivion  as  though  the  one  had  never  transpired,  and 
the  other  never  been  spoken. 

As  he  came  to  this  honorable  decision,  the  exquisite  felt  stealing  over 
him  a  j^nsation  of  ease  and  tranquility  which  restored  to  him  in  a  great  meas- 
.  ure  hnl  former  self  respect. 

"  My  mother,"  he  murmured  with  a  smile  of  unusal  serenity,  "  would  love 
me  more  than  evah  for  this  resolution !  I  can  now  listen  to  what  my  wival 
has  to  say  without  endangering  my  honor!" 

As  if  the  spirit  which  had  charge  of  his  destiny  was  pleased  with  this  in- 
stance of  his  noble  nature,  his  self-possession  was  restored  to  him,  and  this 
was  followed  by  a  sense  of  security  which,  while  it  made  him  happy,  he  did 
not  attempt  to  define. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  the  leavers,  who,  while  they  conversed,  were  perfectly 
unconscious  that  other  ears  than  their  own  were  listening  to  what  passed  be- 
tween them. 

"  Ah,  Neil,"  these  were  the  first  words,  uttered  in  a  voice  of  mournful 
music,  that  came  to  the  ear  of  the  exquisite,  "  there  is  naught  in  store  for  us 
but  misery!" 

"  Nay,  beloved,"  returned  the  planter,  "  let  us  not  despond.  Heaven  has 
in  its  holy  keeping  hearts  that  truly  love,  and  leads  them  in  its  own  good 
time  out  of  darkness  up  to  light !" 

"  But,  my  father,  Neil.     His  brow  clouds  whenever  I  speak  to  him  of  you ! 

"  He  hates  me,  then  ?" 

"Alas!  yee." 

"  I  never  did  him  wrong  1" 

<;  'Tis  true.     And  yet  he  hates  you !" 

"  Heaven  pardon  him  for  it  as  I  do !     The  cause  ?" 

"  Are  you  not  a  rebel  ?" 

"And  for  that  he  hates  me  ?" 

"  For  that  in  part !" 

"  The  rest—" 

"  Richard  s  representations !" 

"  I  never  gave  him  cause  for  enmity.  And  yet  how  much — Oh  !  heaven, 
how  much !  has  he  given  to  me !" 

'•  And  you  hate  him,  Neil,  do  you  not?  and  with  an  enmity  as  fierce  and 
deadly  as  his  own?" 

"No,  Amy,  no.  My  heart  is  not  large  enongh  to  make  room  for  animosity 
against  any  living  thing.  I  could  not  sleep  with  so  base  a  spirit  for  my  bed- 
fellow !  It  is  my  ambition  so  to  live  that  when  I  lay  me  down  at  night  my 
soul  could  say  '  all's  well !'  in  case  it  were  to  take  its  judgment  flight  before 
the  morning !" 

"I  like  this  fellow !"  murmured  the  exquisite.  "  His  heart  is  noble,  it  is 
gweat!" 

"  And  has  my  brother  no  cause  to  fear  you,  Neil  ?  Answer  me  truly.  He 
did  you  a  great  wrong  !" 

"  He  did !"  returned  the  planter,  whose  cheek  became  ashy,  "  and  yet  I 
have  not  sought  him !" 


84  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

"But  you  will—"  persisted  Miss  Winter,  fixing  her  blue  eyes  on  him  jrith 
an  expression  of  intense  anxiety. 

"  No,"  answered  Somers,  with  an  effort.  My  country  has  need  of  me. 
I  am  hi  her  service  now!" 

"  But  that  cannot  last,  Neil ! 

'•  What  cannot  last  ?"  returned  Somers,  absently. 

"Your  country's  claims  upon  you!" 

"  'Tis  true,"  said  the  planter,  solemnly,  "  for  God  is  coo  merciful  to  give 
oppression  the  upper  hand,  eternally!" 

"  Ah,  Neil,  you  are  ungenerous!     You  evade  the  answer  I  would  have  !" 

"Drive  me  not  to  it,  Arny !"  said  the  planter,  with  emotion.  "But  rest 
assured  of  this.  While  the  conflict  wages  between  my 'country  and  the 
crown,  Richard  is  safe  for  me."  ^ 

"  But  you  may  meet  in  battle  ?" 

"Not  by  my  seeking." 

"But  I  repeat  it,  Neil,  you  may  meet  I" 

"  Tis  true,  Amy ;  and  /may  fall !' ' 

"  Or  he  ?" 

"  It  is  the  fate  of  war !"  said  the  planter  solemnly. 

"Oh,  Somers— "Somers!"  cried  Miss  Winter,  wringing  her  hands  in  agony. 

"  Hear  me,  Amy !  What  need  of  anticipating  woe  ?  What  grounds  have 
you  for  supposing  there  is  a  possibility  of  our  meeting?" 

"  Because  Richard  has  sworn  it !" 

"Heaven  help  him!  We  may  meet,  and  yet  neither  of  us  die.  Such 
things,  have  happened,  Amy !"  said  the  planter  with  a  quiet  smile. 

"  You  will  not  kill  him  then,  Neil ;  nor  let  him  kill  you  ?" 

"  For  your  sake  and  my  country's — no  !" 

"  Ah !  thank  you — thank  you  !     My  heart  is  lighter  now !" 

The  planter  smiled. 

"  Listen,"  he  said.  "  Richard  is  not  so  terrible  as  you  think,  nor  as  he 
himself  believes.  He  is  on  the  side  of  passion,  which  blinds  its  followers, 
and  of  error,  which  rarely  ends  in  leading  to  their  undoing  all  who  trust  in 
it  I  were  no  man  to  let  one  who  pursues  so  false  a  track,  cheat  me  of  my 
happiness,  or  rob  me  of  my  life.  Be  assured,  sweet  one,  that  while  I  will 
entrench  on  no  one  else's  manor,  I  will  most  sacredly  guard  my  own.  I 
owe  this  to  those  who  love  me  as  well  as  to  myself;  and  trust  me,  I  am 
versed  enough  in  what  is  due  to  myself,  to  judge  by  that  of  what  is  due  my 
friends.  But  tell  me  of  this  forced  lover,  sweet  one — " 

The  exquisite  pricked  up  his  ears,  which  tingled  as  if  on  fire. 

"  Does  he  persecute  you,"  continued  the  planter.  "  Does  he  strive  to  win 
affections  he  knows  are  fixed  upon  another  ?" 

"Let  me  do  him  justice,"  returned  Amy,  unconscious  of  the  friend  she  was 
making  by  her  ingenious  reply.  "  He  has  thus  far  conducted  himself  as  be- 
comes a  gentleman.  He  has  done  his  best  to  render  himself  agreeable  with- 
out insulting  me  by  professions,  which,  if  genuine,  could  not  be  returned. 
He  has  never  even  spoken  to  me  of  love,  never  uttered  a  sentiment  not 
based  upon  the  strictest  sense  of  honor. 

"And  nevah  will!"  murmured  the  exquisite,  blushing  in  spite  of  himself. 

"I  rejoice  to  hear  it,"  said  the  planter,  "for  his  mother's  sake,  who  is  a 
very  noble  and  worthy  lady.  I  have  known  her  for  many  years,  both  per- 
sonally and  by  reputation,  and  ever  regarded  her  as  one  of  the  purest-minded 
and  gentlest-hearted  women  on  the  list  of  my  acquaintance,  If  she  has  a 
failing,  it  is  perhaps  a  too  great  fondness  for  her  sou,  whom  she  loves  with. 
all  the  energies  of  her  soup  Her's  is  one  of  those  noble  spirfts  which,  by 
their  sweetness  and  amiability,  win  the  love  and  admiration  of  all  with  whom 
they  come  in  contact.  Frederick  could  not  be  the  son  of  such  a  lady,  and 
not  inherit  a  portion  of  her  generous  nature !" 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  85 

"Weally!'1  murmured  the  exquisite,  from  whom  this  panegyric  on  his 
parent  drew  tears  of  gratitude  and  joy,  "  I  like  this  fellow!  He  is  a  gentle- 
man, even  if  he  is  a  webel !" 

"  'Tis  said  he  loves  his  mother  with  an  affection  equal  to  her  own,"  ob- 
served Miss  Winter. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Somers,  "  for  she  deserves  his  warmest  devo- 
tion. Trust  me,  Amy,  Mr.  Crampton  is  worthy  of  our  highest  respect  for  all 
his  drawing-room  airs,  so  long  as  he  fails  not  in  the  duty  and  reverence  he 
owes  to  his  noble  mother ;  and  so  persuaded  am  I  that  he  will  never  be  found 
wanting  in  aught  that  is  due  to  honor,  that  I  dare  trust  him  as  the  guardian 
of  the  bright  mistress  of  my  soul,  without  a  fear  as  to  the  result!" 

"  Have  a  care,  Neil,"  said  Miss  Winter,  archly.  "  The  bright  mistress  of 
your  soul  might  perchance  be  tempted  to  freely  tender  him  her  heart!" 

"  And  she  could  not  offer  it  to  a  nobler,  Amy.  For,  look  you  ;  take  away 
.the  artificial  dross  which  he  has  imposed  upon  himself,  and  the  natural  wortii 
of  the  man  will  show  itself  and  command  general  admiration.  And  it  could 
not  well  be  otherwise,  for  his  mother — his  mother  who  nursed  and  trained 
him — is  one  of  those  pure  spirits  who  refine,  redeem  and  elevate  humanity. 
There  are  two  sides  to  his  character,  as  there  are  to  every  man's — his  natural 
and  his  artificial  ones  :  it  is  the  latter  only  he  presents  to  our  view,  reserving 
his  first  and  noblest  for  her  from  whom  he  inherited  it." 

The  exquisite,  naturally  modest,  blushed  at  this  panegyric  ;  and  as  there 
was  nothing  selfish  in  his  disposition,  he  felt  his  heart  gradually  stealing 
towards  the  planter,  bound  in  the  garments  of  good  will.  If  he  was  natural- 
ly pleased  to  hear  himself  thus  spoken  of,  what  must  have  been  his  delight 
on  listening  to  the  eulogy  passed  upon  a  parent  whom  he  loved  with  an  af- 
fection bordering  on  reverence? 

"I  never  gave  him  credit  for  much  worth  !"  observed  Miss  Winter.  "  To 
tell  the  truth,  I  never  considered  him  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  a  vain, 
weak  gentleman !" 

The  sensitive  exquisite  felt  hurt  at  this  remark,  and  his  brow  gathered 
into  a  moody  frown. 

"  I  shall  dwop  my  addwesses !"  he  muttered.  "  It  is  evident  she  does  not 
know  how  to  appreciate  me.  I  shall  dislike  her — I  know  I  shall!" 

"You  do  him  injustice,  Amy,  Trust  me,  beneath  his  assumed  effeminacy, 
there  beats  as  true  and  noble  a  heart  as  any  in  Carolina !" 

The  exquisite's  brow  cleared  up  again.  His  eyes  sparkled  with  pride  and 
pleasure. 

"  You  shall  find  it  so,  Mr.  Somers,"  he  murmured,  "  should  you  evah  stand 
in  need  of  a  fwend !  I  do  not  like  to  boast,  but  I  do  think  my  heart  is  not 
so  wiry  bad!" 

"  And  are  you  not  afraid,  Neil,"  asked  Miss  Winter,  with  an  arch  smile,"  to 
speak  thus  of  one  who  aspires  to  be  your  rival  ?" 

"No,"  returned  the  planter,  pleasantly.  "I  would  not  underrate  his 
merits,  if  I  could.  Besides,"  he  added,  tenderly,  "  were  he  to  succeed  in 
displacing  me  in  your  heart,  loved  one,  it  would  be  an  evidence  that  your 
love  had  not  yet  been  won  by  me :  for  if  it  had,  he  could  not  be  my  rival 
witi  any  prospect  of  defeating  me,  if  he  would  !'' 

"He  could  not,  Neil!"  said  Miss  Winter,  feelingly. 

"I  believe  it,  Amy;  and  therefore  am  I  easy.  Confident  that  Mr. 
Crampton  will  not  employ  dishonorable  means  to  make  you  hi?.  I  have  no 
fear  that  he  will  supplant  me." 

"  He  wiH  never  succeed  in  doing  that,  Neil !"  said  Miss  Winter. 

"  At  least  he  will  not  twy  !"  murmured  the  exquisite,  stealing  a  look  of 
admiration  at  Somers. 

"  I  feel  assured  of  that,  loved  one."  said  the  planter.  "  I  have  too  much 
confidence  in  your  truth  and  his  honor,  to  think  otherwise,  even  if  he  were 


86  THE    SWAMP   STE£D  |    OR   THE    DAYS 

backed  and  urged  on  by  ten  thousand  Richards.  By  the  way,  is  it  your 
brother's  intention  to  engage  actively  in  this  war  between  the  people  and 
the  king  ?" 

"  Yes.  Even  now  he  is  forming  a  small  party  of  young  men,  wild,  vindic- 
tive and  daring  as  himself,  to  harrass  and  persecute  the  patriots." 

"  There  are  too  many  such  bands,"  said  the  planter,  mournfully ;  "  and 
worse  than  all,  they  are  in  the  main  composed  of  men  born,  like  Richard,  on 
the  soil  which  they  redden  with  the  blood  of  their  nobler  countrymen !  Ah ! 
Amy.  had  we,  that  is  the  people,  but  half  the  arms  and  money  the  royalists 
possess,  we'd  teach  these  marauders  a  lesson  they  would  not  soon  forget. 
As  it  is,  with  all  their  superior  advantages,  they  have  not  the  courage  to 
face  us  like  brave  men  fighting  in  a  just  cause,  but  prowl  upon  our  rear  and 
shoot  us  down,  fire  our  dwellings  in  the  still  hours  of  night,  watch  when  we 
disperse,  lay  in  ambush  for  us  as  we  are  returning  alone  to  our  homes,  and 
slaughter  us,  bloodily,  savagely  !" 

"Demnition  !"  muttered  the  exquisite,  indignantly.  "A  cause  which  tol- 
erates such  horwible  cwimes  as  that,  cannot  be  just!  If  I  were  to  do  sudh 
tilings,  what  would  my  mother  say  !" 

"  And  Richard,"  continued  the  planter,  with  an  air  of  anguish  impossible 
to  describe,  "  is  about  to  enter  jupon  a  career  like  this  !  'Tis  frightful  1 
These  marauding  gangs  are  chiefly  composed  of  men  whose  natures  and 
habits  are  more  brutal  than  human ;  of  men  whose  minds  are  perverted 
by  prejudice,  not  guided  by  intelligence ;  of  men  in  fine,  who  are  so  low  in 
the  scale  of  humanity,  that  they  have  the  heart,  like  born  savages,  whom 
they  resemble,  to  fire  men's  dwellings  while  they  sleep,  and  shoot  down  and 
force  back  into  the  flames,  men,  women  and  children,  as  they  endeavor  to 
escape !" 

"Horror!"  exclaimed  Miss  Winter,  bowing  her  head,  sobbingly,  upon  his 
shoulder. 

"  It  is  not  only  horwible,"  murmured  Crampton,  "  it  is  infamous !  What 
would  my  mother  say  if  she  heard  it !" 

"  I  can  easily  conceive,"  pursued  Somers,  "  how  men  hah0  savage  in  their 
natures  can  commit  crimes,  which  men  of  a  more  elevated  scale  in  humanity 
would  shudder  at ;  but  I  cannot  conceive  how  a  man,  like  Richard,  blessed 
with  the  lofty  intelligence  springing  from  education  and  habitual  collision 
with  persons  of  intellect  and  refinement,  could  deliberately  descend  from  his 
present  proud  position,  forego  his  standing  as  an  educated  and  intelligent 
being,  and  associate  with  men  whose  barbarities  stamp  them  akin  to  the 
brutal  and  the  savage !" 

"Oh,  pity  me,  Neil!"  cried  Miss  Winter,  whose  azure  eyes  were  stream- 
ing with  tears,  whose  lute  toned  voice  trembled  with  emotion,  and  whose 
general  air  was  evincive  of  the  depth  of  her  humiliation,  "  this  bad  man  ia 
my  brother!" 

"  I  appreciate  your  feelings,  loved  one,"  said  her  lover,  pressing  his  lip  to 
her  cheek,  "  and  mourn  for  my  country  :  for  I  can  easily  divine  how  fierce 
and  terrible  an  enemy  she  will  find  in  one  who  can  bring  a  high  order  of  in- 
telligence to  assist  him  in  his  brutalities !" 

"  What  a  horwid  wetch  is  Wichard !"  muttered  the  exquisite.  "  I  shall 
certainly  cut  his  acquaintance.  And  he  wishes  to  borrow  money  of  me,  too 
— doubtless  to  equip  and  sustain  himself  in  his  outwidgeous  caweer !  What 
would  my  mother  say,  if  I  should  lend  it  to  him!" 

"  Is  his  troop  engaged,  Amy  ?" 

"Alas!  yes!" 

"Since  when?" 

"  The  last  fortnight." 

u  Indeed !  How  numerous  are  the  friends  of  oppression,  which  ia  the 
cause  of  hell— how  few  the  friends  of  freedom,  which  is  the  cause  of  God  P' 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  87 

"  God  shall  have  one  more,  then,  to  incwease  his  forces !"  aiurmured  the 
exquisite. 

'•  And,"  continued  the. planter,  "it  is  because  oppression  is  the  friend  of 
the  rich,  that  it  meets  so  many  friends ;  and  because  freedom  is  the  friend 
of  the  poor,  that  it  meets  with  so  few !" 

"  The  poor  shall  find  one  fwend  more !"  muttered  the  exquisite,  "  and, 
thank  God !  that  fwend  has  a  wich  father,  who,  though  his  feelings  side  with 
the  king,  y'et  shall  part  with  a  share  of  his  money  to  help  the  people.  His 
son,  Fwedewick,  has  said  it,  and  he  has  a  mother  who  will  help  him  to  keep 
his  word !" 

"  And  do  you  see  hope,  Neil,"  asked  Miss  Winter,  earnestly,  "in  this  con- 
test between  the  people  and  the  king?" 

"Yes,  loved  one,  yes,"  replied  the  planter,  with  an  air  of  solemn  grandeur 
which  gave  to  his  words  a  tone  of  prophecy,  "  for  He  is  with  us !  It  may  b« 
He  will  lead  us,  as  He  did  the  Israelites  of  old,  through  long  years  of  stern 
and  bitter  struggling,  ere  Victory  shall  perch  upon  our  banner,  and  Defeat  be 
enscrolled  upon  the  standard  of  the  crown.  But  in  the  end  our  faith  and 
courage  will  prevail;  and  Freedom's  flag  shall  wave  in  glad  triumph  upon  our 
mountains,  and  Freedom's  hymn  be  sung  throughout  our  vales!" 

"God  grant  it!"  murmured  his  betrothed,  gazing  with  a  mingled  expres- 
sion of  love  and  pride  upon  her  enthusiastic  lover. 

'•  Trust  in  Him  !"  said  the  planter,  raising  his  eyes  upward  solemnly,  "and 
He  will  carry  us  safely  through  the  wilderness !" 

"  You  are  a  noble  fellow !  murmured  the  exquisite,  "  and  have  made  a 
fwend  to-day  of  one  who  will  pwove  himself  a  fwend.  Oh,  if  my  mother 
could  but  hear  him  speak  !" 

At  this  moment  the  near  report  of  a  rifle  rang  through  the  wood,  and  was 
followed  immediately  after  by  a  low  groan. 

The  lovers  started  up,  but  without  separating;  Amy  clinging  in  terror  to 
her  betrothed ;  the  latter  circling  her  waist  with  one  arm  and  shading  his 
eyes  with  the  other  as  he  peered  around  to  discover  from  whence  the  cry  of 
anguish  proceeded. 

"  Oh,  Neil !"  cried  the  maiden,  in  accents  of  deep  distress,  "  we  are  disco- 
vered !" 

"  Hush !"  returned  Somers,  in  a  whisper.  "  I  thought  I  heard  a  groan, 
and  a  sound  as  of  something  falling!" 

"  And  I !"  said  his  companion. 

"  Demnition !"  murmured  the  exquisite,  "  that  was  a  bullet's  whistle. 
Something  horwible  is  going  on,  and  not  far  off,  either !" 

"  There  is  danger  afoot !"  said  the  planter,  calmly,  "  and  this,  Amy,  is  not 
the  place  for  you.  Come,  let  me  see  you  home !" 

"  And  you  Neil  ?"  returned  the  maiden,  in  a  tone  of  deep  affliction,  "  you 
must  not  return !" 

"  Nay,  dearest,"  he  answered  hurriedly,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  her,  "  we 
have  no  time  to  lose.  Gome  I" 

And  without  giving  her  time  to  reply,  the  planter  took  her  by  the  hand, 
and  gently  hurried  her,  despite  of  her  feeble  resistance,  from  the  spot,  and 
past  the  exquisite,  who  hastily  moved  around  the  palmetto,  as  they  approach- 
ed, to  avoid  detection. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"There  are  more  parties  in  the  wood  than  there  should  be!"  muttered 
Crampton,  uneasily.  "  I  am  vewy  much  mistaken  if  tha .  noise  did  not 
mean  something ! 


88  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DAYS 

As  he  spoke  a  moan  fell  on  his  ear,  followed  by  a  loud  cry. 

"  Help— help !  I  am  dying !" 

The  exquisite  started,  and  turned  pale. 

"  Who  speaks  ?"  he  demanded,  in  a  troubled  voice. 

«  Help — help !"  repeated  the  unknown. 

"Where are  you?"  cried  the  exquisite,  striving,  but  in  vain,  to  make  out 
from  whence  the  voice  proceeded. 

«  Here help,  help !"  moaned  the  unknown,  feebly,  and  Crampton  at  once 

comprehended  that  it  came  from  the  lips  of  one  whose  earthly  career  was 
rapidly  drawing  to  a  close. 

"  Something  must  be  done!"  he  muttered,  his  natural  generosity  getting 
the  better  of  his  caution.  "  Discovery  or  no  discovery,  I  cannot  leave  the 
poor  wetch  to  die  !" 

So  saying,  he  quitted  the  palmetto,  made  his  way  through  the  underwood, 
passed  over  the  mound  which  had  previously  been  occupied  by  the  lovers, 
and  after  advancing  some  eight  or  ten  yards  beyond,  suddenly  came  upon  a 
poor  wretch  distended  upon  the  ground  and  writhing  in  great  agony,  in  the 
midst  of  a  large  pool  of  blood  which  the  spungy  soil  was  gradually  absorbing* 
In  his  right  hand,  the  wounded  man,  whose  face  was  turned  towards  the 
earth,  grasped  with  convulsive  tenacity  a  rifle  which,  judging  by  the  position 
of  its  hammer,  had  been  recently  discharged. 

The  exquisite  was  for  a  few  moments  paralyzed  with  horror,  at  the  sight. 

As  he  recovered  his  self-possession,  he  glanced  at  the  dying  man,  at  the 
weapon  in  his  hand,  and  then  at  his  proximity  to  the  spot  where,  at  the  time 
of  the  report  which  was  sharp  and  quick  like  that  of  a  rifle,  sat  the  lovers 
unconscious  of  their  danger,  and  a  faint  idea  of  the  facts  in  the  case  flashed 
through  his  brain  like  a  line  of  lightning. 

He  had  scarcely  arrived  at  his  conclusion,  when  he  heard  footsteps,  then 
the  rustling  of  cloth  against  dry  and  low-bending  branches,  and  the  next  in- 
stant the  planter  was  beside  him. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  said  Somers.  "  what  know  you  of  this  ?"  And  he  pointed 
sternly  to  the  wounded  man,  whose  struggles,  judging  by  their  faintness, 
were  rapidly  drawing  to  a  close. 

"  Nothing,  sir,"  replied  Crampton,  coloring,  as  he  understood  that  he  was 
regarded  with  suspicion.  "  I  was  merely  passing  through  the  wood,  for  the 
purpose  of  weachmg  the  Winters  by  a  shorter  woute  than  the  woad,  when 
my  attention  was  attwacted  by  the  weport  of  a  wifle,  followed  by  a  cry  for 
help.  I  pwoceeded  in  the  diwection  of  the  sound,  and  found  this  poor  fellow 
stwuggling  as  you  see  him !" 

And  you  know  nothing  more,  sir,  of  this  affair  ?"  demanded  the  planter, 
sternly. 

"Nothing,  on  my  honor!"  responded  the  exquisite,  laying  his  hand  upon 
his  breast,  with  an  air  which  carried  conviction  of  its  truth. 

"  Enough,  Mr.  Crampton,"  said  the  planter,  changing  his  tone  to  one  of 
deep  respect,  "  I  believe  you." 

Then  dropping  his  eyes  upon  the  rifle  in  the  grasp  of  the  prostrate  man,  he 
exclaimed— 

"  Ha !  the  piece  is  discharged.  The  poor  wretch  has  been  shot  acciden- 
tally by  his  own  weapon !" 

'  So  I  suspected !"  observed  Crampton. 

"  Assist  me,  sir,"  said  the  planter,  stooping  down  and  lifting  the  man  out 
of  the  crimson  pool.  "  We  may  yet  save  him  !" 

So  saying,  and  with  the  help  of  the  exquisite,  he  drew  the  man  gently  to- 
wards the  base  of  a  deep-trunked  tree,  around  which  the  earth  was  compa- 
ratively free  from  brush ;  then  dropping  on  one  knee,  he  held  the  head  in 
one  arm,  while  with  the  other  he  removed  the  rifle  from  the  hand  of  the  dy- 
ing wretch,  whose  face  was  stained  with  blood,  and  whose  eyes  were  turned 


OF   MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  89 


up  with  an  expression  of  horror  at  the  man  who  so  generously 
him. 

The  exquisite  shuddered,  for  from  the  wounded  man's  side,  the  red  tide  of 
life  was  slowly  welling  out. 

"  How  is  it  with  you,  sir  ?"  asked  the  planter,  with  an  air  of  deep  sympa- 
thy, as  Crampton,  taking  his  handkerchief,  applied  it  to  the  wound  to  stop 
its  eSusion. 

"Ha!"  exclaimed  the  man,  shuddering;  "that  voice!  Mr.  Somers? 
Speak — is  it  you,  sir  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  friend.     'Tis  I ;  but  what  then  ?" 

A  convulsive  tremor  darted  through  the  man's  frame,  accompanied  by  a 
groan. 

"Speak,  my  friend!"  said  the  planter,  tenderly.  "Can  I  do  anything  for  you?" 

The  man  shook  his  head,  and  an  expression  of  despair  swept  over  his  coun- 
tenance. 

"  Nothing !"  he  ejaculated,  faintly ;  "  nothing  but  pardon :  for  I  was  about 
to  murder  you !" 

"  I  thought  so  !"  muttered  Crampton,  shuddering  with  horror. 

"  For  what,  my  friend !"  said  the  planter.    "  I  never  injured  you !" 

"  True,"  said  the  man,  speaking  with  difficulty ;  "  but  he  employed  me  to 
creep  in  upon  you,  and  shoot  you  down." 

"  '  He' !    Whom  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  Richard  Winter !"  gasped  the  man,  growing  fainter  and  fainter. 

"  But  your  gun  went  off  ?" 

"  Yes,  as  I  was  raising  it  to  my  shoulder ;  a  twig  of  the  brushwood  touch- 
ed the  trigger,  and  the  ball  entered  here !" 

And  he  pointed  with  a  motion  of  his  finger  to  his  side. 

"  God  pardon  you,  my  friend,"  said  the  planter,  solemnly,  "  as  I  do  !  'Twas 
Richard  Winter,  then,  who  set  you  on  to  this  ?" 

"  Yes.  He  had  seen  you  as  you  were  entering  the  wood  from  the  roadside , 
and  suspecting  that  the  motive  which  brought  you  here  was  to  have  an  in- 
terview with  his  sister,  he  gave  me  twenty  guineas  and  his  rifle  to  watch  and 
shoot  you." 

"  Unhappy  man !"  said  the  planter.  "  What — -shed  a  fellow  creature's 
blood  for  twenty  guineas!" 

"  I  was  poor,"  groaned  the  man,  trembling  with  remorse  and  the  approach 
of  death,  "  without  money,  without  work,  and  my  family  starving  !" 

"Your  name?"  asked  the  planter. 

"  Tom  Churchill,"  gasped  the  man.  whose  voice  had  now  approached  to  a 
faint  murmur.  "  Par — pardon — 0,  par — " 

"  I  do— I  do  !  And  if  it  will  be  any  consolation  to  you,  I  will  see  that 
your  femily  be  relieved  from  their  necessities." 

A  faint  smile  hovered  for  an  instant  at  this  announcement  around  the  lips 
of  the  dying  man. 

"You'll  do  that?"  he  inquired,  with  a  low  cry. 

"  I  will,  my  friend,  I  will !" 

A  shade  of  remorseful  agony  passed  over  the  man's  features. 

"  And  this,"  he  muttered,  with  a  frightful  moan,  "  this  is  the  man  to  kill 
whom  I  took  the  gold  of  an  assassin !" 

"But  I  have  said  I  pardon  you,  ray  friend!" 

"Yes,"  muttered  the  poor  wreteh  faintly,  "but  God " 

And  a  deep  sigh  escaped  him. 

"  He  also  will,  I  trust,  forgive  you  !"  said  the  planter. 

But  the  man  answered  not — made  no  sign. 

For  with  that  expression  of  remorse,  with  that  sigh  of  repentance,  the 
spirit  of  the  poor  wretch  had  taken  its  departure  for  that  other  world  where 
•the  Just  sits  in  juilememt  upon  crime. 

12 


9Q  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

"  He  is  gone!"  observed  the  exqusite  with  a  shudder. 

"  Yes  "    answered  the  planter. 

And  he  lowered  the  head   of  the  dead  man  gently  to  the  earth. 

There  was  now  a  long  painful  pause,  during  which  the  parties  were  each  ab. 
sorbed  in  thought.  At  length, 

"  This  is  an  unhappy  business,  Mr.  Crampton,  said  the  planter,  and  one 
that  will  breed  trouble.  What  now  is  to  be  the  fate  of  this  man's  wretched 
family,  thus  left  without  a  head  ?  They  surely  should  not  suffer !" 

"  They  shall  not."  returned  the  generous  exquiste  ;  "  my  purse  shall  save 
them  from  want." 

"  In  their  name,  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Crampton,  said  the  planter,  with  a  bow 
which  was  full  of  dignity  and  respect.  "  I  am  not  overburdened  with  money, 
but  in  my  little  treasury  I  shall  find  enough  to  ensure  the  widow  and  her 
little  ones  from  distress." 

"But  Winter — "  said  the  exquisite. 

"He  will  no  doubt  charge  himself  with  the  care  of  the  woman  he  has  wid- 
owed and  the  children  he  has  orphaned,"  said  Somers.  "  As  for  himself,  I 
leave  him  to  his  destiny." 

So  saying,  lie  took  a  long,  quiet  look  at  the  dead  man's  body,  and  then 
made  a  movement  as  if  to  leave  the  spot 

"A  word,  sir,"  said  Crampton,  who  could  scarcely  restrain  a  cry  of  admi- 
ration at  the  noble  character  of  his  companion. 

The  planter  paused  and  threw  on  him  a  glance  of  inquiry  and  respect. 

"  You  and  I,  sir,"  said  Crampton,  "  have,  in  some  measure,  been  in  each 
other's  way,  in  our  mutual  efforts  to  win  Miss  Wintah's  hand." 

The  planter  made  a  low  bow,  while  his  cheeks  became  tinged  with  a  slight 
tell-tale  blush. 

"It  is  my  desire,"  continued  the  exquisite,  modestly,  "  to  have  the  good 
opinion  of  a  gentleman  for  whom,  believe  me  when  I  say  it,  I  entertain  the 
most  profound  wespect ;  and  as  a  pwoof  of  my  sincerity  I  here  pledge  my- 
self to  welinquish  my  pwetensions  to  Miss  Wintah,  whose  affections  I  hare 
weason  to  believe  can  never  be  mine,  and  to  assist  her  by  every  means  in  my 
power  to  a  union  -with  the  man  she  loves.  It  is  not  necessary,"  added  the 
exquisite,  smilingly,  "  to  mention  him  by  name  !" 

"Mr.  Crampton,"  said  the  planter,  taking  the  extended  hand  of  the  other 
and  pressing  it  warmly.  "  I  appreciate  your  magnanimous  offer,  and  accept 
it ;  and  I  do  it  the  more  readily,  as  I  believe  you  to  be  a  noble  and  high- 
minded  gentleman,  as  you  have  already  proven  yourself  an  honorable  rival.  I 
will  not  conceal  from  you,  sir,  that  your  pretensions  to  Miss  Winter,  backed  as 
they  were  by  her  brother  and  father,  gave  me  some  uneasiness  ;  not  on  ac- 
count of  the  young  lady's  affections,  for  I  knew  them  to  be  mine,  but  on  ac- 
count of  her  happiness  which  might  have  been  disturbed  by  your  persistence 
in  a  suit  that  never  could  have  had,  for  any  of  the  parties  engaged  in  it,  a 
pleasant  termination." 

"  I  feel  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  your  observation,"  returned  Crampton  ; 
"  and  for  that  weason  I  decline  a  contest  in  which  my  heart  has,  after  all,  had 
but  little  intewest.  When  I  wed,  I  desire  a  lady's  affections  as  well  as  her 
hand,  which  I  most  assuredly  would  not  have  with  Miss  Wintah.  And  now, 
sir,"  continued  the  exquisite,  "  let  me  say  to  you  in  all  sincerity  that  I  would 
rather  be  your  fwend  than  your  wival ;  and  if  you  will  honor  me  with  your 
fwendship,  I  give  you  my  word  as  a  man  of  honor,  that  you  will  never  have 
cause  to  wepent  it !" 

"  I  feel  assured  of  that,  Mr.  Crampton,  and  cordially  tender  you  my  high- 
est regards.  Should  I  require  assistance  in  my  suit  with  Miss  Winter,  I  shaD 
not  fail  to  ask  it  at  your  hands." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Somers,  thank  you !"  cried  the  exquisite,  with  a  look  of 
profound  gratitude.  "  I  desire  no  gweater  happiness  than  the  honor  of  being 


Or    MARION    AND    UiS    MERRY    MEN.  91 

Called  your  fwend  !  To  have  the  ability  to  serve  you  or  Miss  Wintah  would 
be  to  me  the  acme  of  felicity." 

"  Accept  my  most  fervid  thanks  in  return,"  said  the  planter,  pressing  his 
hand.  "  And  now  a  word.  Should  you  see  Miss  Winter,  oblige  me  by 
making  no  allusion  to  this  unhappy  affair,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  body.  "I 
would  not  have  her  gentle  nature  shocked  by  the  knowledge  of  the  utter  de- 
pravity of  her  brother  !" 

"  I  understand  you,  sir,  and  will  be  silent  as  you  wequesf." 

"  Thank  you.  One  word  more.  I  will,  on  reaching  home,  write  a  note  to 
Miss  Winter,  informing  her  of  the  friend  we  both  have  had  the  honor  of 
gaining  in  you,  and  of  the  confidence  she  may  consequently  repose  in  you 
from  this  hour.  Would  it  be  asking  too  much  at  your  hands,  my  friend,  to 
deliver  that  note  to  her  ?" 

"  It  would  be  a  pleasure,  Mr.  Somers,"  returned  the  young  man,  with 
emotion. 

"  I  felt  assured  of  that,  Mr.  Crampton,"  said  the  planter  gratefully.  "  And 
now  for  a  time,  adieu  !" 

"  I  will  walk  with  you  as  far  as  the  woa^"  said  the  exquisite,  '*'  and  there 
bid  you  farewell  !" 

"  No,"  returned  the  planter,  taking  his  hand,  "  say  it  here  !" 

Crampton  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  Consider,"  said  the  planter,  pointing  to  the  body,  "  this  affair  is  not  yet 
over.  The  bullet  which  made  this  poor  wretch  a  corse  was  intended  for  me  ; 
and  the  man  who  employed  it  is  doubtless  waiting  at  the  edge  of  the  wood 
for  a  report  of  its  success.  He  may  have  companions,  too,  in  which  case  I 
might  have  to  work  my  way  through  ;  an  easy  task,  since,  as  you  see  I  have 
my  sword  with  me.  But  you,  my  friend,  you  are  unarmed,  and  there  might 
be  danger  to  you  if  seen  in  my  company  I 

:<  I  understand  you,"  said  Crampton. 

"  Independent  of  these  considerations,"  continued  the  planter  with  a  pleas- 
ant smile,  "  you  had  better  rlbt  let  it  appear  to  Richard  Winter  that  you  are 
cognizant  of  this  attempt  upon  my  life  ;  it  might  endanger  you  ;  for  murder- 
ers are  apt  to  look  for  security  by  also  assassinating  the  witnesses  of  their 
crimes." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Crampton,  upon  whom  this  observation  appeared  to 
make  a  serious  impression. 

"And  therefore,"  resumed  the  planter,  "you  had  better  take  the  nearest 
route  homeward,  to  avoid  discovery  on  the  part  of  this  man  or  his  myrmi- 
dons." 

"But,"  said  the  generous  exquisite,  "if  there  is  danger  for  you,  it  is  my 
duty  as  a  fwend,  to  see  you  through  it  safely.  I  cannot  consent  to  see  you  go 
single-handed  into  peril  !  ' 

"  I  appreciate  your  nobleness,  my  friend,"  said  the  planter,  touched  at  this 
generosity,  "  and  under  other  circumstances  would  not  refuse  your  company. 
jBut,  be  assured,  all  things  considered,  you  had  better  not  be  known  in  this 
matter,  nor  appear  to  have  the  slightest  knowledge  of  the  transaction  or  its 
actors.  As  for  myself,  rest  easy  :  I  carry  a  good  blade,  and  nature  has  given 
me  a  quick  eye,  a  stout  arm,  and  a  supple  hand.  Come,  say  farewell,  at 


"  Farewell  —  farewell!"  cried  Crampton,  in  a  tone  of  deep  distress. 

"  For  the  present,"  said  the  planter,  with  a  calm  smile. 

"Yes,  for  the  pwesent!"  returned  the  exquisite,  with  emotion;  "for  God 
will  not  permit  so  bwave  a  man  to  fall  !" 

And  turning  himself  away,  he  dashed  through  the  wood,  utterly  regard- 
lees,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  of  what  became  of  his  ruffles  in  his  flight. 

The  planter  watched  his  retreating  form  with  an  eye  slightly  moistened 


92  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OK.    THE    DAYS 

by  emotion.  The  noble  and  generous  sentiments  of  the  exquisite  had  touched 
him  to  his  innermost  soul. 

"  He  has  a  gallant  heart  for  all  his  foibles,"  he  muttered  mentally.  "  Who 
takes  him  for  a  timid  simpleton,  because  of  his  effeminate  air,  will  greatly  err 
in  judgment." 

And  he  turned  upon  his  heel,  and  moved  off  to  where  his  well  trained 
horse  patiently  awaited  him. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

As  the  planter  approached,  his  gallant  steed  saluted  him  by  proudly  tossing 
its  head,  pawing  the  air  with  its  right  fore  foot>  and  uttering  a  low,  joyful 
neigh. 

"My  brave  Arrow!"  said  the  planter,  tapping  the  intelligent  animal  fondly 
on  the  neck,  "  are  you  then  so  gla&  to  see  your  master  back  again  ?  Tell  me 
without  neighing,  for  there  may  be  foes  around  ?" 

The  animal  bowed  its  head  and  showed  its  white  teeth,  in  reply. 

"  You  are  a  faithful  fellow !"  returned  the  planter,  caressing  him  with  his 
hand. 

Arrow  pawed  his  right  fore  foot,  and  looked  at  him  with  an  expression 
which  said,  "That's  true  as  gospel,  and  I'm  glad  you  know  it" 

"  I  want  to  travel,"  continued  the   planter,  "  and  with  as  little   noise  as 


The  animal  nodded,  and  threw  into  his  eye  an  expression  which  implied,  "  I 
understand  that  What  then  ?" 

"  Once  on  the  road,"  said  the  planter,  "  I  want  you  to  act  according  to 
circumstances.  We  may  meet  enemies,  in  which'  case  it  would  perhaps  be 
well  for  you  to  remember  that  you  have  good  stout  irons  on  your  heels !" 

Arrow  winked  one  eye  knowingly,  and  said  as  plainly  as  an  eye  could  say, 
"  Leave  me  alone  for  that !" 

"  Then,  my  brave  Arrow,  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,"  added  the  planter, 
caressingly.  "  I'll  mount  now,  if  you  please  ?" 

Arrow  winked  again,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Very  good.     Get  on,  sir  I'' 

And  he  bent  down  softly,  not  like  any  other  horse,  but  very  much  like 
Arrow,  who  was  so  well  trained  and  so  fond  of  his  master  that  he  felt  dis- 
posed to  give  him  as  little  trouble  as  possible. 

The  planter  threw  himself  into  the  saddle ;  caught  up  the  rein,  and  mut- 
tered in  a  low,  confidential  tone : 

"Now,  Arrow — now!" 

The  intelligent  steed  rose  softly  to  his  full  height,  and  then  commenced 
making  a  display  of  his  Indian  education,  by  moving  over  the  ground  and 
through  the  trees  and  underwood,  with  steps  as  light  and  noiseless  as  a 
doe's. 

"  You  are  a  gallant  fellow!"  murmured  the  planter,  patting  him  encourag- 
ingly on  the  neck.  "There  isn't  another  horse  in  Carolina  that  knows 
how  to  conduct  himself  so  well !" 

Arrow  shook  himself  gently,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  He  knew  that,  as  well 
as  any  one." 

"  I  suppose  you  do,"  said  the  planter,  conscious  that  he  was  perfectly  un- 
derstood. "  And  mind  you  don't  lose  your  reputation." 

Arrow  pricked  up  and  shook  his  ears,  which  his  master  comprehended  to 
raean,  "I'll  look  out  for  that !" 

They  were  soon  on  the  borders  of  the  wood,  and  consequently  within  a 
•^ew  paces  of  the  road. 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY   MEN.  93 

At  this  moment,  Arrow  dropped  suddenly  on  his  knees.  The  next  instant 
Somers  perceived  a  flash,  then  heard  the  whistle  of  a  bullet,  as  it  passed  di- 
rectly in  a  line  over  his  head,  and  then  the  report  of  a  pistol. 

The  gallant  animal  had  seen  the  black  tube  leveled,  and  was  on  his  knees 
in  the  very  nick  of  time ! 

"  A»  I  expected,"  muttered  the  planter,  drawing  his  sword,  and  rising  in 
his  saddle.  "  Winter  is  waiting  for  his  report.  1 11  have  to  give  it  him  my- 
self. Are  you  hurt,  Arrow,  my  brave  lad,"  he  added,  "  that  you  remain  so 
long  upon  the  earth?" 

Arrow  quivered  and  dropped  one  of  his  ears,  a  sign  which  his  master  at 
once  understood  as  a  Avarning ;  and  the  planter  bent  forward  on  his  sad- 
dle till  his  face  touched  the  mane  of  the  gallant  steed. 

As  he  stooped,  a  second  bullet  whistled  over  him,  and  a  second  report 
rang  on  the  air  I 

In  another  instant,  Arrow  was  on  his  feet  and  dashing  through  the  trees 
towards  the  assassin. 

H^  had  scarcely  taken  five  steps  forward  when  three  men,  and  not  one, 
as  the  planter,  .judging  from  the  two  pistol  shots,  supposed,  darted  from  be- 
hind as  many  trees,  and  fled  in  the  direction  of  the  road. 

Somers  recognized  in  the  first  the  person  of  Richard  Winter ;  the  features 
of  the  others  were  unknown  to  him. 

Arrow  darted  after  them,  not  like  a  horse,  but  like  a  mastiff  on  full  run, 
and  came  up  with  the  third  whom  he  landed  with  a  terrible  kick,  which 
drew  from  the  miserable  wretch  a  most  agonizing  shriek,  as  Winter,  followed 
by  his  second  companion,  emerged  into  the  road. 

Once  out  of  the  wood,  Winter  and  his  companion  planted  themselves  in 
the  middle  of  the  highway,  and,  nothing  intimidated  by  the  fate  of  their  con- 
federate, determined  to  take  a  bold  stand. 

Winter,  having  thrown  away  his  discharged  pistols,  appeared  armed  with 
a  rapier)  his  companion  with  a  rifle. 

The  first  wore  a  countenance  black  with  rage  and  hatred ;  the  second  a 
face  pale  but  determined. 

"  A  hundred  guineas,  in  addition  to  the  twenty  I  promised  you,"  cried 
Winter,  hoarsely,  "  if  you  drop  htm  [" 

"  I'll  win  'em !"  returned  the  man,  quickly,  as  he  raised  his  gun  to  his 
shoulder. 

At  this  moment  Arrow,  with  his  master,  the  latter  standing  in  his  stir- 
rups and  with  his  sword  drawn,  sprang  into  the  road. 

The  eye  of  the  intelligent  animal  detected  the  motion  of  the  ruffian  as  he 
raised  his  finger  to  the  trigger  of  his  piece,  and  fell  like  a  flash  of  light  upon 
his  knees.  The  planter  instantly  bowed  his  head  down  to  the  animal's  mane, 
which  his  lips  had  scarcely  touched,  when  the  whistle  of  a  bullet  brushed 
past  him,  almost  singeing  his  head. 

The  next  instant  Somers  rose,  with  his  steed,  calmly,  in  his  saddle,  and 
dashing  towards  the  rifleman,  with  one  sweep  of  his  sword,  split  the  ruf- 
fian's head  down  to  the  shoulder. 

The  poor  wretch  fell  back,  uttering  a  low  moan  which  resembled  a  last 
sigh,  and  was  dead  ere  he  touched  the  earth. 

Arrow  now  turned  towards  Winter  with  blazing  eyes,  mane  erect,  and 
launching  forth  a  shrill,  fierce  neigh.  Like  the  wolf,  having  once  scented 
blood,  he  was  anxious  for  a  feast. 

Winter  stood,  sword  in  hand,  ready  to  defend  himself  to  the  last  extremi- 
ty. With  every  fierce  passion  aroused,  his  appearance  was  at  once  wild, 
'  devilish,  resolute  and  sublime.  Conscious  that  his  black  design  upon  the 
life  of  the  planter  was  wholly  understood,  and  that  concealment  was  conse- 
quently impossible,  he  threw  off  all  reserve,  with  the  determination,  now 
that  he  was  in  for  it  beyond  redemption,  to  go  on  to  the  death.  And  his 


94  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DATS 

attitude  while  standing  a  little  aside  on  the  road,  with  his  weapon  en  guard, 
and  the  expression  of  his  features,  which  were  pale  but  firm  and  breathing 
forth  defiance,  would  have  conveyed  to  the  eye  of  a  spectator  the  figure  of  a 
second  Lucifer,  conscious  of  the  evil  of  his  nature,  yet  whose  proud  spirit 
nothing  could  appal,  and  whose  sole  desire  was  the  ruin  of  his  enemy  even 
though  it  might  involve  his  own. 

The  planter,  however,  now  tb.at  he  had  punished  the  hired  miscreants,  con- 
sidered it  beneath  him  to  bandy  words  or  cross  weapons  with  their  infa- 
mous employer.  He  was  sensible  also  of  the  impolicy  of  shedding  the 
blood  of  one  who,  whatever  his  crimes,  was  still  the  brother  of  his  betrothed  ; 
and  though  satisfied  that  Winter  deserved  death  at  his  hands,  he  yet  felt 
that  this  was  not  the  time  nor  the  place  to  call  him  to  account.  Reining 
in  his  steed,  therefore.  Somers  wheeled  the  gallant  animal  around  with  the 
intention  of  moving  off  and  leaving  the  miserable  wretch  to  chew  the  cud  of 
mortification  over  his  bafHed  scheme  at  his  leisure. 

Winter's  quick  eye  discovered  the  movement,  and  his  fertile  brain  ena- 
bled him  to  comprehend  its  meaning.  • 

"  He  treats  me  with  utter  SCOJKI,"  he  murmured,  half  audibly,  through  his 
set  teeth.  And  as  the  thought  flashed  across  him,  his  brow  grew  black. 
"Death — death!"  he  continued,  "were  preferable  to  contempt.  He  shall 
not  escape  me.  I  have  gone  too  far,  to  fall  back.  Both  of  us  cannot  live, 
and  he  or  /must  die!" 

Meanwhile,  the  planter  was  slowly  moving  off,  with  his  back  turned,  in 
calm,  unmistakable  disdain  upon  his  enemy. 

"His life  or  mine!"  muttered  the  latter,  springing  forward  with  uplifted 
sword  to  cut  him  from  behind. 

As  he  sprang  forward,  however,  Arrow,  whose  Indian  education  adapted 
him  for  every '  emergency,  and  whose  ears  had  been  instinctively  erect, 
watching  every  whistle  of  the  atmosphere,  caught  the  rustling  sound  of  his 
movement ;  and  darting  ahead  a  few  paces,  thus  evading  whatever  danger 
there  might  be  behind,  the  intelligent  animal  suddenly  described  a  semi-cir- 
cle, and  launching  lightnings  at  the  treacherous  tory,  was  about  to  plunge 
forward  and  trample  him  in  the  dust,  when  a  slight  quick  motion  of  the  rein 
restrained  his  eager  steps  and  brought  him  to  a  stand. 

Winter  was  now  within  three  paces  of  the  planter,  who,  with  every  muscle 
at  rest,  and  his  sword  reposing  across  his  left  arm,  looked  down  upon  him 
from  his  saddle,  with  a  countenance  so  calm  and  full  of  grandeur  that  the 
young  tory  was  for  an  instant  staggered. 

"  What  want  you,  sir  ?"  demanded  Somers.  tranquilly,  as  if  addressing  a 
a  stranger. 

"Your  life — your  blood!''  stammered  Winter;  "your  life,  your  heart's 
best  blood.  Down  from  your  horse,  if  you  are  not  a  coward,  and  contest 
with  me  the  price  of  hatred  !" 

"I  have  no  hatred  to  dispose  of,"  returned  the  planter,  calmly;  "if  you 
possess  any,  I  have  no  desire  to  purchase  it.  That  I  am  no  coward,  you  are 
as  well  aware  as  myself.  As  to  getting  down  from  my  horse,  I  am  so  well 
pleased  with  my  saddle,  that  nothing  but  coercive  measures  would  induce 
me  to  relinquish  it.  Are  you  answered  ?" 

"  Craven — no !"  cried  the  tory,  fiercely.  "  Down  from  your  horse,  if  you 
are  a  man ;  your  blade  against  mine,  for  one  or  both  of  us  must  die  !" 

And  as  he  spoke,  he  raised  his  sword,  and  bringing  it  down  with  a  sweep, 
sought  to  plunge  it  into  the  planter's  breast.  The  latter  quietly  touched  the 
flanks  of  Arrow  with  his  spur,  and  as  the  intelligent  animal  sprang  aside,  th« 
tory's  descending  weapon  became  buried  in  the  earth, 

"  You  see,"  remarked  Somers,  tranquilly,  "  that  my  destiny  hangs  not  in 
your  hands.  Be  wise,  and  give  over  your  folly.  As  yet  I  have  been  able 
to  keep  down  the  bad  blood  which  you  would  startle  from  its  repose ;  but  I 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  95 

may  not  always  be  so  successful  Be  warned,  sir,  for  even  now  my  fingers 
tingle  to  teach  you  the  absurdity  of  playing  the  part  of  an  assassin." 

As  he  spoke,  the  tones  of  the  planter's  voice  gradually  deepened ;  his  brow 
gathered  slowly  into  a  threatening  frown ;  and  his  whole  aspect  was  im- 
pressively solemn. 

It  was  evident  that  despite  his  best  efforts  to  prevent  it,  his  nature  was 
slowly,  but  not  less  surely,  working  its  way  to  empire,  and  marshaling  its 
forces  to  unseat  his  judgment. 

"  Ha !  dare  you  threaten  ?"  demanded  the  tory,  upon  whom  these  signs  of 
anger's  approaching  outburst  were  not  lost,  and  who,  so  fierce  was  his  thirst 
for  a  conflict  which  promised  him  an  opportunity  to  gratify  his  deep-seated 
venom,  perceived  them  with  a  fiendish  smile,  "  prove  yourself  a  man,  and  do 
it  on  foot !" 

"  Drive  me  not  to  it — drive  me  not  to  it,"  said  the  planter,  solemnly.  "  1 
would  not  shed  your  blood,  nor  imperil  mine,  now  /" 

"  '  Now'!"  repeated  Winter,  with  a  sneer.  "  You  are  too  generous  I  Neither 
now,  r0r  hereafter,  nor  at  any  time  have  you  the  ability.  It  is  not  in  your 
body  ;  do  you  hear,  sirrah,"  he  continued,  mockingly.  "  the  nerve  and  ability 
to  shed  my  blood  are  not  in  your  body ;  they^vere  not  in  your  father's  loins, 
and  are  not  in  you,  his  issue.  I'll  test  your  boasted  metal,  if  you  dare  for 
one  minute  to  leap  from  your  saddle ;  and  I'll  brand  craven  on  your  brow,  as 
I  did  harlot  on  your  sister's !"  . 

"  My  sister's!"  responded  the  planter,  in  a  hollow  voice  that  came  up  from 
the  depths  of  his  now  thoroughly  aroused  soul.  "  My  sister's!"  he  repeated, 
and  his  countenance  became  livid  and  frightful.  "  My  sister — you  dishonored 
her,  brought  autumn  and  winter  to  her  bruised  heart  ere  yet  she  had  entered 
upon  life's  sweet  summer — and  you  boast  of  it !  Base,  bad  man,"  he  added, 
in  a  fearfully  calm  voice,  as  weapon  in  hand  he  descended  from  his  horse  and 
advanced  upon  his  adversary,  "  as  you  say,  we  must  cross  blades!" 

"  For  an  instant  only,"  cried  Winter,  rushing  on  him  furiously.  "  Take 
that !" 

And  be  aimed  a  blow*at  the  planter's  breast. 

The  latter  parried  it,  observing  through  his  pent  teeth,  as  he  did  so  : 

"  I  have  said,  poor,  groveling  worm !  that  I  would  not  kill  you,  and  I  will 
not ;  but  I  shall  punish  you  I" 

"  You  are  too  generous,  by  far !"  returned  Winter,  tauntingly,  as  he  turned 
aside  the  pJanter's  rapier,  and,  by  a  movement,  quick  as  lightning,  sprang 
forward,  and  ran  his  weapon  through  his  sword  arm  right  above  the  elbow. 

Now  that  he  was  in  the  midst  of  action,  the  tory's  senses  appeared  to  re- 
turn to  him  with  tenfold  clearness  and  vigor.  The  foam  quietly  receded  from 
his  lips ;  his  muscles  ceased  twitching,  and  seemed  to  brace  themselves,  like 
wires  of  steel,  for  ^the  encounter ;  his  furrowed  brow  cleared  up ;  his  pale 
cheeks  assumed  their  accustomed  hue ;  his  lips  dropped  their  rigid  pentness, 
and  opened  to  emit  a  taunting  expression,  closed  again,  with  a  firmness  which, 
was  vigorous  yet  calm ;  his  eyes  lost  their  passionate  brilliancy  and  shone 
with  a  clear,  steady  light ;  the  muscles  of  his  wrist  and  fingers  settled  down 
tranquilly,  and  he  grasped  the  handle  of  his  long,  slender  rapier,  with  a  strong, 
elastic  and  unmoistened  hand.  He  watched  the  deep  and  aroused  passion  of 
his  adversary  with  a  quiet,  sneering  smile,  and  being  himself  a  most  expert 
swordsman,  fancied  that,  by  a  little  skilful  manoeuvring,  he  could  lead  him 
on  step  by  step  to  the  point  of  his  weapon  till  at  the  proper  moment,  he 
could  with  his  sword,  bury  at  one  blow  his  long-nourished  hatred  in  his 
heart.  As  he  drew  back  to  make  a  second  lunge,  after  successfully  passing 
his  blade  through  the  planter's  arm,  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of  insulting 
irony : 

(<  The  first  blood  is  mine  !     Mine  also  the  pleasure  of  scoring  '  craven'  on 


96  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR   THE    DAYS 

your  rebel  forehead,  as  I  besmeared  '  wanton'  on  your  sister's  !  Do  you  hear, 
sirrah  ?" 

"  My  sister— yes— my  sister !  she  is  not  yet  avenged !"  cried  the  planter  as 
he  felt  the  blood  trickling  down  his  sleeve,  while  the  pupils  of  his  eyes  ex- 
panded and  gleamed  with  a  fierce,  unnatural  light 

And  as  he  spoke,  he  drew  back  a  single  step,  balanced  his  weapon  firmly 
and  lithely  in  his  hand,  then  springing  forward,  lunged  at  his  antagonist. 

As  each  had  laid  himself  out  for  a  death-dealing  thrust,  neither  achieved 
his  object ;  on  the  contrary,  both  rapiers  met  in  fierce  collision,  forming  a  re- 
versed letter  V;  for  an  instant  they  separated,  but  in  another  they  were  again 
together,  and  wrapped  in  an  indescribable  intricacy,  from  which  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  part  without  breaking  them. 

This  was  a  trick  of  rapier  handling  which  satisfied  each  of  the  combatants 
that  in  the  other  he  had  found  an  opponent  worthy  of  his  highest  skill. 

"  You  do  not  find  it  quite  so  easy  a  task  as  you  proposed,  to  punish  me !" 
said  the  tory.  mockingly,  for  the  purpose  if  possible  of  distracting  his  adver- 
sary's attention. 

And  as  he  spoke,  he  pressed  forward,  to  back  his  antagonist,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  give  his  own  wrS  greater  play. 

But  his  effort  was  abortive  ;  Somers  maintained  his  ground,  without  giv  - 
ing  way  an  inch :  throwing  at  the  same  time  what  force  he  could  muster  into 
the  muscles  of  his  hand,  and  in  his  turn  pressing  forward  to  drive  his  oppo- 
nent from  the  strong  position  his  admirable  attitude  enabled  him  to  hold ; 
and  with  success :  for,  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do,  the  tory  was  compelled  to 
give  ground,  forced  backward  by  the  superior  muscular  play  of  the  planter. 

"Your  nerves  are  in  better  condition  than  I  thought  them,"  observed  Win- 
ter; "but  for  all  that,"  he  continued  tauntingly,  "  I  shall  kill  you — do  you 
hear,  insolent  rebel  ?  I  shall  loll  you !" 

"  My  destiny,"  answered  the  planter  calmly,  "  is  in  higher  hands  than 
yours.  Your  heart  is  bad,  your  thoughts  are  evil ;  you  are  skilful  only  in  the 
black  work  of  an  assassin.  You  should  consort  with  thieves  and  felons,  who 
are  your  equals,  and  not  with  honest  men,  who  are  your  superiors  !" 

"  No  matter  what  my  heart,  my  thoughts,  or  skill,"  returned  Winter,  with 
a  sardonic  laugh,  "  I  am  man  enough  for  you  I" 

"  We'll  see  that !"  observed  the  planter,  quietly. 

"Right — we'll  see  it,  and  shortly,  too!"  added  the  tory,  with  an  insolent 
laugh.  "  Look  out,  now,  impudent  rebel !  I  am  about  to  part  company  with 
you,  but  only  to  resume  it  with  four-fold  alacrity !" 

"  Ha !"  returned  Somers,  calmly,  "  you  say  that  ?" 

" I  not  only  say  it,"  rejoined  Winter,  "  but  I'll  do  it     Look  to  yourself!" 

"Nay,"  observed  the  planter,  tranquilly,  "that  is  for  you  to  do.  As  for 
me,  I  shall  look  to  you." 

"  Look,  then !"  cried  Winter,  exultiugly. 

And  he  made  a  quick,  fierce  effort  to  release  his  weapon  from  his  adver- 
sary's, in  which  he  was  successful,  and  then  feU  back  a  few  steps  to  recover 
strength  and  impetus  for  a  fresh  and  if  possible  a  decisive  onset 

The  planter  at  the  same  time  retreated  a  pace  or  two  for  a  similar  pur- 
pose. 

Ere  one  could  count  six  the  combatants  were  again  face  to  face  and  thrust- 
ing at  each  other  with  all  the  fierce  calmness  of  men  who  had  met  to  do  or 
die,  who  had  the  utmost  respect  for  one  another's  skill,  who  were  well  aware 
that  a  single  false  move  was  certain  death,  and  conscious  that  victory  was  to 
be  obtained  only  by  a  thorough  and  accurate  command  of  the  temper,  the 
muscle,  and  the  eye. 

Every  succeeding  lunge  was  therefore  made  and  parried  on  either  side  by 
the  utmost  circumspection. 

As  yet,  however,  there  had  been  but  one  sword  tipped  with  blood — Win- 


OF    MAEION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  97 

ter's ;  but  one  of  the  combatants  wounded — Somers :  and  they  had  already 
been  engaged  upwards  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 

At  length  their  rapiers  again  met  and  became  interlaced  to  an  indescriba- 
ble degree.  And  now  the  lunging  and  parrying  had  become  of  a  fine  and 
dexterous  character.  The  fighting  that  had  previously  marked  the  combat 
was  mere  child  play  compared  with  that  which  followed.  The  two  weapons 
were  now  so  fiercely  and  intricately  lashed  that  they  appeared  like  a  single 
blade  of  steel  with  two  handles,  of  which  each  of  the  adversaries  held  one. 
Now  this  blade  bent  in  the  centre1,  now  it  was  elevated,  and  formed  the  let- 
ter A ;  now  it  pressed  upon  the  breast  of  the  planter,  now  it  wandered  over 
to  that  of  the  tory ;  now  it  described  a  circle,  then  it  was  drawn  out  to  its 
full  length  between  the  combatants ;  now  its  two  sharp  points  appeared  about 
to  bury  themselves,  in  their  bosoms,  and  now  they  suddenly  diverged  up- 
ward, while  the  two  hilts  came  together  with  a  shock  which  threatened  to 
shiver  them  in  pieces. 

The  eyes  of  the  combatants,  as  the  battle  progressed,  became  brighter  and 
clearer,  and  thefr  pupils  dilated  till  both  orbs  appeared  to  have  become  whol- 
ly pupilized,  and  lit  up  with  transparent  liquids,  in  which  their  very  thoughts 
shone  like  imaged  figures  in  a  mirror. 

The  parties  pressed  on  each  other  with  increasing  fierceness,  their  hands 
guided  to  a  certain  extent  by  passion,  but  their  heads  calm  and  collected  as 
5"  engaged  in  a  work  tasking  only  their  intellects.  Still  they  were  individually 
conscious  of  the  necessity  of  putting  forth  all  their  energies  for  victory,  as 
nature  was  rapidly  doing  for  them  that  which  their  mutual  skill  had  thus  far 
prevented  them  from  doing  for  themselves ;  that  is,,  bringing  the  affair  to  a 
close,  by  gradually  depriving  the  combatants  of  their  strength. 

"  Tour  hand  is  yielding,  rebel !''  exclaimed  Winter,  with  a  tormenting 
laugh,  for  the  purpose  of  distracting  his  adversary's  attention. 

"  My  hand  may  be,  but  my  heart  is  not !"  returned  the  planter.  "  Look, 
now,  I  am  about  to  return  the  thrust  you  gave  me  in  my  arm.  Defend  your- 
self!" 

"I  will."  answered  the  other,  with  a  sneering  laugh.  '•  That  boast  is  like 
the  one  with  which  you  promised  so  generously  to  '  punish'  me.  You  did 
not  keep  that,  nor  can  you  this !" 

"  Nay,  I  shall  keep  them  both,"  answered  the  planter,  cabnly. 

He  had  scarcely  spoken,  when  making  a  feint  to  press  forward  on  his 
enemy,  he  as  quickly  disengaged  his  rapier,  and  fell  back  three  paces ;  and 
this  movement  he  executed  so  speedily,  that  he  recovered,  rushed  forward, 
and  plunged  his  weapon  between  the  neck  and  shoulder  bone  of  his  antago- 
nist before  the  latter,  half  taken  by  surprise  at  the  unexpectedness  of  the 
coup,  had  had  time  to  guess  his  intention. 

Hastily  withdrawing  his  sword,  and  retreating  two  steps,  Somers  ex- 
claimed— 

'•  I  have  returned  your  thrust;  now  for  your  punishment." 

A  stinging  pain,  for  the  planter's  weapon  had  graced  the  bone,  caused  an 
involuntary -groan  on  the  part  of  Winter ;  and  throwing  himself  forward  to 
meet  him.  he  rejoined: 

"  That  you  will  not,  rebel :  for  I,  too,  have  a  promise  to  fulfil." 

They  threw  themselves  at  each  other  with  a  fierceness  which  threatened 
to  bring  the  protracted  combat  to  a  speedy  close.  In  mutually  lunging  and 
parrying,  so  close  were  they  together,  that  their  rapiers  met  at  their  handles, 
and  their  hands  came  in  contact  for  the  first  time.  In  another  instant  they 
were  wrapt  in  a  struggle  to  disarm  one  another  of-their  weapons. 

"  They  shall  be  mine,''  cried  Winter,  tauntingly ;  "  and  I  shall  at  length  be 
enabled  to  keep  my  promise  to  kill  you  1" 

"It  is  not  your  destiny,"  returned  the  planter,  quietly,  while  he  called  up 

13 


98  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DATS 

all  his  strength  to  wrench  the  rapiers  from  the  other's  grasp.  "  You  are  a 
man  of  evil,  and  never  keep  your  promise." 

"  And  you — "  said  Jhe  other  sneeringly. 

"As  for  me,"  resumed  the  planter,  in  a  calm,  but  firm  voice,  "I  have  pro- 
mised to  punish  you,  and  God  will  furnish  me  with  the  means  to  make  good 
my  word,  which  is  with  me  a  matter  of  conscience." 

The  tory  laughed,  satirically,  in  reply  ;  and  then  bent  all  his  energies  to  the 
task  of  wresting  away  the  weapons  and  laying  his  antagonist  defenceless. 

In  the  struggle,  not  only  their  hands,  but  their  breasts,  thighs  and  knees 
came  in  fierce  collision.  About  evenly  matched  in  strength,  this  close  con- 
test threatened  to  last  as  long  as  did  the  hot  but  skilful  passage  with  their 
blades. 

At  length,  the  tory,  getting  his  adversary,  by  a  turn  in  the  struggle,  with 
his  back  to  the  side  of  the  road,  which  rose  slantingly  upward,  tried  to  work 
him,  by  pressing  his  knees  against  those  of  the  planter,  backward  till  he 
should  strike  against  the  rising  earth,  when  it  was  his  design  to  fall  upon  him, 
and,  in  the  suddenness  of  the  movement,  wrench  away  the  weapons,  and  then 
stab  him  to  the  heart. 

Somers,  however,  having  during  the  struggle,  taken  a  hasty  survey  of  the 
field  around  him,  at  once  comprehended  the  tory's  plan,  and  quietly  deter- 
mined to  cateh  him  in  his  own  trap.  He  accordingly  allowed  himself  to  be 
pressed  backward,  till  he  was  within,  as  he  thought,  about  three  feet  of  the 
rising  slope,  when,  wheeling  quickly  around,  he  threw  himself  with  all  his 
weight  upon  his  adversary,  who,  perceiving  too  late  to  save  himself  the 
object  of  the  planter,  lost  his  balance,  and  fell  back,  his  wounded  shoulder 
striking  against  the  rough,  stony  soil,  and  causing  him  to  utter  at  the  same 
ime  a  mingled  yell  of  disappointment  and  pain. 

Following  up  the  advantage  he  had  thus  gained,  the  planter,  with  every 
sense  alive,  grasped  the  contested  weapons  firmly  by  their  handles,  and  giv- 
ing them  a  quick  and  violent  wrench,  at  the  same  time  bending  his  body  and 
throwing  himself  backward,  in  another  instant  stood  erect  with  the  rapiers 
grasped  firmly  in  his  right  hand. 

"  They  are  mine  at  last,  you  see,"  he  observed,  in  the  same  calm  voice 
which  he  had  used  from  the  commencement  of  the  combat.  "  Now  what 
hinders  me  from  keeping  my  promise  to  punish  you  ?" 

"Do  it!''  returned  the  tory,  rising,  and  folding  his  arms,  sulkily. 

"  Confess,"  said  the  planter,  with  an  air  of  solemn  grandeur  natural  to  him 
on  occasions  of  importance,  "  that  your  conduct  towards  my  sister,  who  now 
sleeps  in  the  grave  your  falsehood  dug  for  her,  was  base,  brutal  and  un- 
manly !" 

"Never!"  returned  Winter,  with  a  coarse  laugh,  while  his  features,  for  all 
he  could  do,  rose  up  in  judgment  against  him  in  the  shape  of  a  confused 
blush. 

"  Confess  it,"  repeated  the  planter,  solemnly,  "  for  the  sake  of  humanity !" 

A  brutal  laugh  was  the  only  rejoinder  to  this  appeal. 

"  Confess,"  said  the  planter,  in  the  same  solemn  tone,  "  that  your  conduct 
towards  me  since  my  sister's  death,  has  been  the  offspring  rather  of  a  hasty 
head  than  of  a  wilfully  wrong  heart.  Say  it,  in  the  name  of  humanity!" 

A  sardonic  smile  alone  was  the  only  response. 

"  Confess,"  continued  the  planter,  "  that  this  attempted  assassination  of  one 
who  had  never,  from  his  birth  hour  until  now,  wilfully  injured  you  or 
any  of  yours,  either  by  word  or  act.  was  the  emanation  of  a  hasty  and  un- 
generous thought,  and  not  the  offspring  of  a  black,  premeditated,  long-pon- 
dered plan.  Say  it,  in  the  name  of  humanity  !" 

"Never!"  was  the  brief  reply. 

The  brow  of  the  planter  grew  dark,  and  a  mournful  shade  settled  over  his 
features. 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS     MERRY    MEN.  99 

"  You  force  me  to  it,  then,"  he  said,  in  a  hollow  voice  ;  "you  force  me  to 
it  You  will  not  let  me,  however  much  I  help  you  by  struggling  with  my- 
self against  the  desire,  avoid  the  pain  it  gives  me  to  lay  hands  upon  you  as  a 
man  takes  hold  of  and  punishes  a  brute  whose  crimes  have  cut  him  off  from 
all  ties  with  humanity  !  Be  it  on  your  own  head,  then,  for  'tis  you  who  force 
me  to  it  I" 

As  he  spoke,  he.  to  the  amazement  of  Winter,  who  knew  not  what  to 
make  of  it,  threw  the  rapiers  from  him  ;  then  stretching  out  his  left  arm, 
seized  the  tory  by  the  neckcloth",  which  he  gave  a  sudden  twist,  dexterously 
tripped  him  from  off  his  feet,  dealing  him  at  the  same  time  a  stunning  blow 
with  his  fist  on  his  left  temple,  which,  while  it  all  but  deprived  him  of  con- 
sciousness, laid  him  sprawling  upon  the  earth. 

"  Now,"  said  the  planter,  pressing  his  knees  upon  the  breast  of  the  pros- 
trate wretch,  "ere  I  proceed  to  brand  you — ere  T  do  that  which  will  make 
all  men  shun  you — ere  I  put  upon  you  a  mark  which  will  ostracise*  you  from 
society,  and  compel  you  to  choose  between  herding  with  men  of  evil  habits 
and  isolating  yourself  from  the  world  forever,  I  demand  of  you  again  an  ac- 
knowledgement of  your  guilt  as  the  seducer  and  murderer  of  my  sister !" 

The  tory  nnable  to  comprehend  the  character  of  the  punishment  alluded  to, 
instinctively  fearing  death,  now  that  he  found  himself  so  close  upon  its  mar- 
gin, and  reading  in  the  calm  but  earnest  eyes  of  his  conqueror  that  his  fate 
hung  upon  a  thread,  which  a  single  moment's  delay  might  snap  and  thus  pre- 
cipitate him  into  the  dark  confines  of  eternity,  he  determined  to  release  him- 
self from  his  precarious  and  considering  his  wound,  exceedingly  painful  posi- 
tion, by  a  show  of  repentance,  and,  as  he  considered  it,  a  trifling  lie.  Jn  ac- 
cordance with  this  resolve,  he  motioned  the  planter  to  relax  in  a  measure  his 
hold  upon  his  neckcloth,  and  signing  to  him  to  remove  his  knees  from  off  his 
chest,  muttered  slowly: 

"I  acknowledge  the  crime.     Are  you  satisfied  now  F 

"  Not  yet,"  said  Somers.  "  Do  you  admit  yourself  an  assassin,  a  liar,  a 
hypocrite,  and  a  villain  ?  Answer  1" 

"  If  it  will  suit  you — yes!"  replied  the  tory. 

"Enough!"  said  the  planter,  observing  him  silently  for  a  few  moments, 
and  then  releasing  him  with  a  shudder  of  disgust  "You  are  even  baser  than 
I  thought  you :  for  you  admit  your  brutal  treacheries  without  a  blush !  Rise 
— I  give  you  back  your  life.  You  are  unworthy  of  an  honest  man's  notice  !" 

"I  may  go  now  ?"  asked  the  tory,  with  an  assumed  air  of  humility,  as  he 
crept  slowly  to  his  feet.  t 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  planter,  scornfully.  ';  And  beware  how  you  again 
cross  my  path !" 

"  I  can  have  my  sword,  I  suppose?"  added  Winter,  without  lifting  his 
eyes  from  the  ground. 

"Who  hinders  you  from  taking  it?"  returned  the  planter,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  deep  loathing.  "  Think  you  I  would  pollute  my  fingers  with  its 
touch  r 

The  ,  ory  made  no  reply  ;  with  eyes  downcast,  to  conceal  a  peculiar  light 
which  flittered  in  their  pupils,  he  slowly  approached  the  two  rapiers,  closely 
followed  by  Somers,  and  picking  them  up,  examined  for  a  moment  their  blood- 
stained points ;  then  looking  up  and  perceiving  that  the  planter  was  regard- 
ing him  attentively,  he  blushed  slightly,  and  with  a  motion  not  devoid  of 
a  certain  degree  of  grace,  presented  him  his  weapon,  remarking — 

"  There  are  situations,  brought  about  perhaps  by  himself,  when  man  pre- 
sents to  the  view  of  his  fellow  man  the  dark  side  only  of  his  nature.  Let  as 
hope  that  the  hour  may  come  when  I  shall  present  to  the  eye  of  my  conquer- 
or the  better  side  of  mine !" 

"  No  man,  Mr.  Winter,  will  pray  more  earnestly  for  the  speedy  coming  of 
that  hour  than  I,"  said  Somers,  turning  away,to  mount  bis  horse.  "  Adieu  1" 


100  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DAYS 

As  he  turned  his  back  upon  the  tory,  the  countenance  of  the  latter  assum- 
ed an  expression  of  fiendish  triumph. 

"That  hour  shall  be  now!"  he  murmured  exultmgly,  "and  the  bright  side 
fce  my  revenge !" 

And,  with  a  light  step  he  sprang  forward,  and  with  a  movement  quick  as 
light  plunged  his  rapier  through  the  planter's  back.  Fortunately  for  the  lat- 
ter he  detected  the  tory's  shadow  on  the  sunny  ground  as  he  advanced  upon 
him,  and  sprang  aside  in  time  to  prevent  the  blade  from  touching  his  spine, 
but  not  speedily  enough  to  save  his  side  from  being  grazed  as  the  steel  passed 
through  his  coat 

Incensed  at  the  treacherous  act,  he  wheeled  upon  his  heel  to  face  its  cow- 
ardly author. 

"  This  is  the  second  time !"  he  exclaimed.  "  'Twere  a  crime  to  longer  show 
you  mercy!" 

"  Let  him  who  asks  it,  lose  it !"  returned  Winter,  with  a  brazen  laugh,  as 
their  weapons  crossed.  "  As  for  me  I  have  a  strong  desire  to  keep  my  word 
— a  matter  of  conscience  as  you  call  it !  It  is  my  intention  to  show  you,  in- 
solent rebel,  the  shortest  road  to  the  grave!" 

"See  that  you  keep  it;  I  warn  you  it  is  necessary!"  returned  the  planter, 
parrying  a  lunge  made  at  his  breast,  and  returning  it  with  a  success  which 
tipped  his  rapier  anew  with  blood.  "  As  for  me,  I  will  not  kill  you,  but  I 
shall  leave  a  mark  upon  your  forehead  that  will  cause  you  to  be  shunned  like 
a  second  Cain !" 

"Braggarts talk,  men  perform!"  said  Winter,  tauntingly. 

"  I  have  drawn  blood  on  your  left  breast,  I  shall  now  draw  it  on  the  right,' 
returned  the  planter.  "  Is  that  merely  boasting  or  performing?" 

"Boasting,  of  course,"  sneered  Winter,  as  he  touched  his  adversary  slight- 
ly in  the  shoulder. 

"No,  it  is  performing,"  observed  the  latter,  "  for  see,"  and  he  lunged  sue* 
•cessfully,  "  I  have  kept  my  word !" 

And  a  red  stain  upon  Winter's  right  breast,  the  twin  companion  of  another 
on  his  left,  as  the  planter  drew  back  his  rapier,  attested  the  truth  of  his  re- 
mark. 

"  Bravo !  That  was  well  done !"  cried  the  tory,  with  a  forced  laugh,  as  his 
features  became  set  and  livid  through  passion  at  his  adversary's  success,  and 
fear  that  he  himself  should,  after  all,  be  baffled  in  his  thirst  for  revenge.  "  It 
-was  capital,"  he  added,  with  a  fierce,  fiendish  smile,  "  but  not  so  good  as 
this!" 

And  throwing  all  his  strength,  which  he  felt  was  fast  failing  him,  into  his 
wrist,  and  summoning  every  muscle  into  play,  he  made  a  few  feint  passes, 
for  the  purpose  of  entangling  the  weapon  of  his  adversary,  when,  by  a  strong 
and  hasty  turning  of  his  own  blade,  he  succeeded  in  twisting  that  of  the 
planter  out  of  his  hand,  and  sending  it  whirlingly  through  the  air  for  a  dis- 
tance of  nearly  twenty  yards. 

"  Now,"  he  cried,  with  an  exultant  smile,  "  now,  rebel !  I  have  you  at  my 
mercy.  Now,  I  shall  at  once  gratify  my -hatred  and  redeem  my  promise. 
Now,  I  shall  show  you  my  bright  side,  in  triumph.  Now,  I  shall  plant  my 
rapier  in  your  heart,  and  my  foot  upon  your  body!" 

"  Come  on,  then,  and  try  it !"  responded  the  planter,  throwing  himself 
into  an  attitude  of  defence.  "  I  have  no  sword,  but  I  have  hands ;  and 
armed,  or  unarmed,  I  shall  yet  brand  you  as  a  drover  brands  his  cattle !" 

"Curse  you — this  for  your  insolence  1"  cried  Winter,  rushing  forward  and 
aiming  for  his  breast. 

Somers  slipped  aside,  and  throwing  out  his  hand,  caught  the  tory  by  the 
wrist  In  an  instant  they  were  wrapped  in  a  fierce  struggle,  each  using  his 
best  efforts  to  throw  the  other  off  his  balance,  but  with  about  equal  success. 
'Winter,  however,  conscious  that  his  strength' was  not  sufficient  for  a  pro- 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    SIEN.  101 

tracted  struggle,  determined  to  make  the  most  use  of  the  little  he  had  left. 
Bringing  up  his  knee,  therefore,  with  a  sudden  movement,  he  planted  it  with, 
what  force  he  could  command,  in  the  abdomen  of  his  adversary,  and  followed 
this,  a  moment  later,  by  tripping  up  his  heels.  In  another  instant,  Somers, 
pale  and  speechless  with  agony,  lay  prostrate  in  the  sun. 

"  Did  I  not  say  it?"  cried  the  tory,  with  an  expression  of  fiendish  triumph, 
as  he  stood,  with  uplifted  weapon  over  him.  "  Confess,  now,  in  your  turn, 
that  you  are  an  insolent  and  ambitious  rebel — confess  it,"  he  added,  with  a 
smile  of  mockery,  'for  the  sake  of  humanity  !'" 

The  planter,  despite  his  frightful  agony,  calmed  his  features  and  returned- 
his  enemy  a  look  of  bold  defiance. 

"  Ha !  haughty  rebel,"  resumed  Winter,  with  a  malignant  smile,  "  you  dare 
me  to  proceed  ?  And  yet  my  foot  is,  as  I  promised,  on  your  breast.  Con- 
fess that  in  this,  at  least,  I  have  kept  my  word.  Say  it,  '  for  the  cause  of 
humanity !'  " 

"  Do  your  worst,  assassin  !"  rejoined  the  planter,  calmly. 

"  I  will!"  responded  Winter,  with  a  countenance  distorted  by  savage,  un1- 
relenting  hatred.  "  It  will  be  the  fulfilment  of  my  last  promise — to  kill  you. 
Look ! — I  am  now  about  to  pierce  your  rebel  heart — to  write  '  craven'  upon 
your  brow,  as  I  did  '  harlot'  on  your  sister's. — Listen,  Neil  Somers,  to  what 
I  am  about  to  tell  you  ,  it  will  make  your  last  sigh  as  horrible  as  I  would 
have  it ;  it  will  make  your  very  bones  rattle  in  your  coffin  !  Do  you  hear  ?" 

"  I  hear,"  observed  Somers,  calmly. 

"  Listen,  then.  With  the  blow  I  am  now  about  to  give  you,  I  shall  make 
your  mother  childless !  Do  you  hear  ?'' 

"  I  hear,"  said  Somers,  with  an  involuntary  shudder,  as  he  thought  of  his 
beloved  parent 

"  Nay,  more,"  continued  the  tory,  with  a  frightful  smile,  "  she  shall  be  with' 
you  to-night.  Do  you  hear  ?  To-night,  the  walls  that  shelter  her  shall  be 
fired, — to-night,  the  red  flame  shall  consume  and  usher  her  timid  soul  into 
that  eternity  in  which  I  am  now  about  to  plunge  her  son  1" 

At  this  terrible  intelligence,  the  planter's  heart  for  the  first  time  grew 
faint,  and  a  cold  shudder  passed  over  his  frame. 

"  Do  you  hear  ?"  demanded  Winter,  "  'tis  I  who  tell  you  this — 'tis  I  who 
shall  lead  the  band — 'tis  I  who  shall  give  the  order,  first  for  her  ravishment,, 
then  for  her  destruction.  Ha !  do  you  tremble — have  I  at  last  appalled  your 
proud  soul ;  have  I,  at  length,  made  your  haughty  heart  quiver ;  have  I  given 
you  a  foretaste  of  the  hell  to  which  you  are  now  going  ?  Ha !  ha !  this,  this : 
is  indeed  joy.  This,  this  pays  me  for  the  undying  hatred  I  have  carried 
about  me  for  many  a  long  day !  I  would  not  exchange  it  for  the  Indies. 
Now,  Somers !  do  you  hear — now,  for  the  crowning  stroke.  Now  I  am. 
about  to  kill  you,  as  I  promised  !" 

And  throwing  back  his  arm,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  greater  force  to  his 
blow,  he  was  'in  the  act  of  again  bringing  it  forward,  when  he  suddenly  felt 
it  grasped  from  behind  as  by  a  vice ;  a  moment  later,  a  crunching  sound 
broke  the  stilhiess  of  the  air ;  the  rapier  fell  from  his  hand,  and  uttering  a 
shrill,  piercing  scream,  which  awoke  the  echoes  of  the  neighboring  woods 
and  hills,  the  tory  tottered  four  or  five  paces  from  his  prostrate  adversary, 
and  dropped,  pale,  ghastly,  wild  and  quivering,  upon  the  road. 

The  planter  was  saved  ! 


THE   SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

As  that  wild,  alarming  cry  broke  on  the  air,  Somers,  who  had  giveu  up  all 
for  lost,  and  resigned  himself  to  the  fate  which  apparently  awaited  him,  opened 
his  eyes,  which  had  been  shudderingly  closed  to  shut  out  the  frightful  picture 
•of  his  parent's  woes,  as  conjured  up  by  his  unscrupulous  and  exultant  enemy, 
and  looking  up  he  perceived  Winter  staggering  from  his  body,  and  a  moment 
or  two  later,  falling,  from  the  effects  of  a  frightful  wound  on  hia  right  arm, 
which  now  hung  bleeding  and  powerless  at  his  side. 

Relieved  from  the  tory's  weight  upon  his  person,  Somers  at  once  compre- 
hended that  he  was  saved  by  the  timely  interposition  of  some  unknowa 
friend,  and  sprang  to  his  feet  to  return  thanks  to  his  deliverer. 

As  he  rose,  he  encountered  a  face  familiar  to  him  as  hia  own ;  and  thia  face 
belonged  to  a  head  which  was  bowing  before  him  with  all  the  grace  and  po- 
liteness of  an  exquisite,  as  much  as  to  say — "  Happy  to  see  you  sir, ;  how  do 
you  find  yourself  now  ?"  Attached  to  this  head  were  two  large,  black  spark- 
ling eyes,  which  said  as  plainly  as  two  such  eyes  could  say — "  I  did  that  pretty 
well,  and  in  the  very  nick  of  time,  too,  sir — didn't  I?" 

The  reader  has  already  guessed  it ;  the  planter's  timely  preserver  waa  his 
brave  and  faithful  swamp  steed — the  matchless  Arrow  \ 

As  he  recognized  the  person  of  his  deliverer,  Somers,  glancing  first  at  the 
gallant  animal,  whose  smiling  lips  and  teeth  were  red  with  blood,  and  then  at 
the  pale,  quivering,  prostrate  Winter,  comprehended  the  whole  in  an  instant. 

The  swamp  steed,  having  watched  with  interest  the  progress  of  the  com- 
bat, and  seeing  how  matters  were  going  towards  the  close,  had  quietly  moved 
up  behind  the  tory  as  that  worthy  stood  upon  the  breast  of  his  master,  and  as 
he  threw  back  his  elbow  to  give  greater  force  to  his  blow,  caught  his  arm  be- 
tween his  lips,  and  buried  his  teeth  in  the  bone. 

"My  brave  Arrow!"  exclaimed  the  planter,  throwing  himself  caressingly 
upon  the  neck  of  the  intelligent  animal,  "  you,  then,  are  my  preserver.  Ah ! 
what  do  I  not  owe  you?" 

Arrow  turned  his  head  and  placing  it  fondly  over  the  planter's  shoulder, 
appeared  to  say,  "  Pray  don't  mention  it,  my  good  fellow.  Such  things  are 
nothing  among  friends !" 

"  I  shall  never  be  able  to  repay  you,  my  brave  Arrow,"  said  Somers,  pat- 
ting him  affectionately,  ."  never  !" 

The  gallant  animal  winked  his  left  eye  humorously,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  None  of  your  gammon,  sir.  I  have  not  done  anything  more  than  my  duty. 
You'd  have  done  the  same  for  me  ;  and  so  we're  quits." 

"  You  are  the  prince  of  good  steeds,"  said  the  planter  caressingly,  conscious 
that  he  was  understood.  "We'll  part  only  with  life." 

Arrow  licked  his  lips,  arched  his  neck,  pawed  the  air  with  his  fore  foot,  and 
wagged  his  tail  very  conceitedly,  and  appeared  to  ask  with  all  the  coolness  in 
the  world,  "  Cream  colored  Nell  couldn't  have  carried  herself  better  than  this 
young  gentleman,  I  presume !" 

"You  are  matchless,  Arrow,  aye,  priceless,"  observed  the  planter,  fondly. 
"  But  let  us  look  at  our  enemy,"  he  added,  turning  toward  the  prostrate  tory, 
who,  although  suffering  the  most  frightful  agony,  was  yet  conscious,  and  glar- 
ing up  at  the  object  of  his  hatred  with  an  expression  of  fiendish  malice. 

"  Pray,  how  do  you  find  yourself,  sir  ?"  asked  Somers,  advancing  towards 
him,  with  an  air  of  genuine  solicitude.  "  We  are  enemies,  but  I  would  not 
•  be  so  unchristian  or  ungentlemanly  as  not  to  offer  you  assistance  in  a  situation 
so  full  of  suffering  as  yours !" 

"  Go !''  returned  Winter,  whose  physical  agony  gave  to  his  voice  a  tone  of 
extraordinary  harshness.  "  I  would  not  look  upon  you  I" 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN  103 

"3ut  you  are  dying  I"  observed  the  planter,  generously.  "Permit  me,  at 
least,  to  lift  you  out  of  reach  of  the  scorching  sun,  lay  you  in  the  shade,  and 
ran  for  help !" 

"Go!"  repeated  Winter,  untouched  even  by  this  noble  offer.  "I  would 
owe  nothing  to  you!  You  have  not  branded  me,  as  you  promised!"  he 
added  exultantly. 

"No,"  answered  Soiners,  ingenuously.  "God  has,  in  His  mercy,  post- 
poned that  unpleasant  task.  Should  you  die,  your  death  will  render  it  un- 
necessary ;  should  you  live,  your  destiny  will  yet  force  it  upon  me  I  Adieu ! 
I  will  send  some  one  tp  look  after  you  !" 

"Stay!"  gasped  Winter,  with  a  look  of  intense  hatred. 

"  What  would  you  ?"  said  the  planter,  calmly. 

"  Let  this  meeting  between  us,  be  remembered  only  by  ourselves." 

"  Wherefore  ?"  demanded  the  planter. 

"I  wish  it,"  returned  the  tory,  who  spoke  with  great  difficulty.  •''  Some- 
thing tells  me  I  am  not  dying;  that  I  shall  become  unconscious,  but  that  I  shall 
yet  live,  and  be  enabled  at  a  future  day  to  resume  this  combat,  which  I  regard 
as  not  ended,  but  simply  interrupted,  and  postponed.  Promise  me  this  I" 

"  Why  should  I  promise  it?"  asked  the  planter,  marveling  at  such  endur- 
ing hatred,  and  amazed  at  such  unflinching  courage  in  the  midst  of  so  much 
physical  anguish. 

"  Because,1'  returned  the  wounded  tory,  with  an  unfaltering  eye,  which 
glittered  like  that  of  a  basilisk,  "  this  is  not  my  dying  hour  ;  because  I  do 
not  wish  it  known ;  because  I  shall  be  silent  to  all  in  regard  to  it ;  because — 
draw  nearer  to  me,  my  strength  and  consciousness  are  giving  out — because, 
in  my  last  hour,  or  yours,  it  matters  not  which,  I  have  a  secret  to  whisper 
in  your  ear :  the  secret  key  to  my  fixed  and  undying  hate  I" 

The  planter  regarded  him  thoughtfully  for  a  few  moments.  At  length  he 
said — 

"  I  promise  it,  on  one  condition !" 

"Name  it!''  said  Winter,  eagerly. 

"That  you  abandon,  from  this  hour  and  forever,  all  attempts  upon  my 
mother  and  her  house,  confining  your  hatred  exclusively  to  my  person  and 
my  life !'' 

"I  agree."  said  the  tory. 

"Can  I  depend  upon  you  !'' 

:<  I  have  given  you  my  word  in  solemn  hatred,"  returned  Winter,  with  a 
cold,  settled  glance ;  "  and  you  can  rely  upon  it  as  firmly  as  upon  your  G-od  I" 

"Adieu,  then.     Shall  I  send  you  help  ?" 

"No,"  answered  the  tory;  "it  is  unnecessary.  I  hear  the  sound  of  ap- 
proaching footsteps,  and  shall  be  cared  for.  Take  yourself  off  quickly,  or 
you  will  be  seen.  Eemember,  I  have  your  promise !" 

"  I  shall  not  forget,"  returned  the  planter,  picking  up  his  rapior  and  mount- 
ing his  horse.  "  For  the  last  time,  Adieu  !" 

Touching  Arrow  in  the  flanks,  the  planter  rode  off  in  the  direction  of 
Kin  gs  tree. 

Winter's  glaring  eyes  followed  him  till  he  disappeared  at  a  bend  in  the 
road. 

"  Go,"  he  muttered,  "and  bear  with  you  the  maledictions  of  a  disappoint- 
ed man.  But  carry  not  with  you  the  fancy  that  your  triumph  is  eternal  I 
shall  yet  live,  yet  bend  your  brow  to  a  level  with  mine,  yet  make  your 
proud  heart  shed  tears — aye,  tears  of  blood !" 

He  paused  awhile.  The  agony  of  his  wounded  arm,  on  which  the  blazing 
STin  poured  its  penetrating  fire,  was  intense. 

"Oh!"  he  murmured,  striving  to  master  the  pain,  "this  is  frightful  It 
will  drive  me  mad,  and  madness  will  cheat  me  of  my  revenge !  No,"  he 
added,  with  a  heroic  eSbrt  of  his  will,  "  my  coward  body  shall  not  triumph. 


104  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DATS 

I  shall  not  yield  to  suffering.  Death,  rather  than  that — death.  I  must  have 
ft IiOT'R'haveit — revenge! — before  I  die.  Oh!  this  cursed  sun — it  is  broil- 
ing me !" 

He  paused  again.  His  wounds,  instead  of  declining,  increased  in  virulence. 
To  add  to  his  misery,  his  blood  was  quietly  oozing  away  from  the  three  small 
incisions  made  by  the  planter's  rapier.  It  was  evident,  taking  these  facts  into 
consideration,  that  he  could  act  possibly  hold  out  much  longer. 

As  this  conviction  flashed  across  him,  he  became  terrified. 

"Oh!"  he  cried,  mournfully,  as  if  addressing  the  arbiter  of  his  destifty, 
"  save  me  for  a  time — for  a  time  only.  Let  me  not  die  till  I  have  breathed 
into  his  ear  the  word  my  dying  mother  whispered  into  mine." 

The  fierce  streams  of  the  burning  sun  upon  his  wound  continued,  and  his 
anguish  was  indescribable.  As  if  to  increase  it  still  deeper,  the  fact  uprose 
before  him  that  his  physical  torture  was  slowly  but  surely  climbing  to  his 
brain,  taking  possession  of  one  after  another  of  his  faculties,  and  wrapping 
them  in  darkness. 

"Oh,  G-od!"  he  murmured, 'beseechingly,  "let  not  that  fall  on  me.  Permit 
me  to  retain  my  senses,  and  do  with  my  bodyas  you  wifl.  I  have  a  mission 
to  perform,  an  oath  to  fulfil.  Spare,  0  G-od !  spare  to  me  my  reason !" 

Notwithstanding  this  appeal,  his  sufferings  continued  to  increase  till  they 
became  appalling. 

"  Great  G-od !  great  G-od !"  he  cried,  with  a  piercing,  piteous  wail,  "  spare 
me,  0  spare  me.  It  is  soul  as  well  as  body  you  are  consuming !  Ah !  my 
God— my  God !" 

This  exclamation  was  caused  by  a  fresh  and  more  violent  sensation  than 
any  that  had  yet  afflicted  him.  It  was  as  if  a  red  hot  iron  had  been  laid  sud- 
denly upon  his  tenderest  part  The  shock  was  so  exquisite  that  he  sprang 
to  his  feet  and  capered  about  upon  the  road  like  a  figure  charged  with  quick- 
slver. 

At  the  same  instant,  he  uttered  a  wild,  quick  laugh,  and  a  pale  glittering 
light  gleamed  from  his  eyes  which  now  coruscated  in  their  distended  sockets 
like  torches  dancing  in  caves  of  gloom. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  he  yelled,  with  a  savage  glare,  and  pointing  to  a  some- 
thing which  his  fancy  had  raised  before  him,  "  they  have  put  out  the  lights. 
All  is  darkness.  Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

And  throwing  up  his  hand  as  if  to  ward  off  a  stroke  from  an  invisible  ene- 
my, he  staggered  a  few  paces ;  then  reeling,  like  one  blinded  by  a  rude,  fierce 
blow,  he  sank  back,  outstretched,  upon  the  road. 

His  fears  were  at  length  realized.  Light  had  vanished  from  his  brain,  and 
darkness  stolen  in. 


maniac. 

_  At  this  stage,  an  elderly  gentleman,  on  his  way  to  Kingstree,  whose  atten- 
tion was  arrested  by  the  young  man's  singular  movements,  advanced  rapidly 
from  the  side  of  the  road  ;  dropping  on  one  knee  beside  the  body,  he  survey- 
ed it  for  a  few  moments  with  a  mingled  expression  of  astonishment  and  dis- 
tress ;  thea  clasping  his  hands,  which  trembled  with  emotion,  he  exclaimed, 
while  a  shade  of  agony  passed  over  his  features — 
"  Richard,  Richard !  is  it  thus  I  find  you!" 
It  was  the  tory's  father. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

^  DATS  passed  by  into  weeks,  and  Richard  Winter's  mental  alienation  con- 
tinued ;  weeks  sped  on  into  months,  and  his  malady  was  apparently  incura- 


OP    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  105 

We ;  months  rolled  away  into  years,  and  at  length  his  physician  pronounced 
him  wholly  recovered,  and  he  left  his  chamber.  . 

"  How  long  have  I  been  thus  ?"  was  his  first  question. 

"  Four  years,"  was  the  reply  of  his  attendant. 

Richard  Winter  could  scarcely  credit  this  intelligence.  From  the  moment 
of  his  insensibility  to  that  of  his  return  to  sanity  was  to  him  a  dead  blank. 
He  remembered  distinctly  every  detail  of  his  combat  with  the  planter,  but 
nothing  beyond  it.  And  four  years  had  glided  by  since  then  !  He  could  not 
realize  it.  It  was  like  a  dream.  Four  years  !  What  might  not  have  hap- 
pened in  that  time  !  • 

At  the  earliest  practical  moment  he  hurried  to  Kingstree,  and  made  his 
way  to  "  the  Palmetto,"  the  resort  of  the  wealthier  young  men  of  both  par- 
ties. On  the  occasion  of  his  visit,  however,  there  were  but  two  or  three  per- 
sons present ;  but  these  were  of  the  first  families  of  the  neighborhood. 

Winter's  appearance,  after  so  long  an  absence,  created  a  sensation.  The 
young  men  received  him  warmly,  and  one  of  them,  the  son  of  a  wealthy 
planter,  complimented  him  with  the  remark, 

"  Now  that  you  are  on  hand,  we  shall  have  jolly  times  once  more  !  For 
raising  the  devil,  you  were  always  the  leading  spirit !" 

Winter  received  this  equivocal  compliment  with  a  quiet  shrug,  and  after 
satisfying  the  curiosity  of  each  of  the  parties  present  relative  to  his  health, 
he  seated  himself  at  a  table,  and  popularized  his  advent  by  ordering  wine  for 
the  company. 

"  Now,  Clark,"  he  said,  when  the  noise  and  bustle  attendant  upon  this 
movement  had  somewhat  subsided,  "  tell  me  the  news." 

"  The  British  are  again  at  Charleston,"  returned  the  young  man  thus  ad- 
dressed. 

"  Yes,"  said  Richard  Winter,  querulously,  "  as  prisoners  ?  The  rebels  al- 
ways carry  matters  with  a  high  hand !" 

"  No,"  said  the  other,  laughingly.     "  The  boot  is  on  the  other  leg." 
%"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  demanded  Winter,  while  a  peculiar  light  danced  in 
his  threatening  eyes. 

"  What  I  have  said.  The  rebels'  day  is  over.  The  king  holds  his  own 
qnce  more  in  Carolina." 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?" 

"  Quite,"  returned  the  other.  "  If  you  doubt  it,  ask  Sprague,  here.  His 
father  is  a  lawyer,  and  likely  to  know  all  about  it." 

"  It  does  appear  to  be  so,"  said  the  individual  thus  referred  to,  in  answer  to 
Winter's  inquiring  look. 

Sprague  was  a  young  man  of  about  twenty-five  or  eight,  with  a  pale  face, 
and  calm,  thoughtful  eyes.  He  sat  behiad  the  table,  in  such  a  position  as  to 
command  a  full  view  of  the  bar  room  and  all  that  it  contained.  His  general 
appearance  was  manly  and  prepossessing. 

"  When  did  this  take  place  ?"  asked  Richard  Winter. 

"  Oh,  months  ago,"  replied  Clark.  "  The  vagabonds  of  the  revolutionary 
party  have  been  very  quiet  ever  since." 

Sprague  raised  his  eyes  and  calmly  surveyed  the  speaker  as  he  uttered 
these  words ;  and  a  careful  observer  would  have  noticed  a  slight  and  almost 
imperceptible  curl  playing  upon  his  admirably  chiseled  lip. 

''  How  was  it,"  continued  Winter,  ;<  that  the  rebels  were  deprived  of  Char- 
leston ?" 

"  Oh,  very  simply,"  returned  Clark,  with  a  quiet  smile.  "  They  were  starved 
out  of  it." 

"  They  were  regularly  besieged,  then  ?" 

"  Certainly.  To  do  them  justice,  however,  two  thousand  of  them  contested 
tte  matter  bravely  for  six  weeks  with  ten  thousand  of  the  royal  troops  under 
Sir  Henry  Clinton." 

14 


|06  THB    SWAMP    8TBBD  j    OR    THE    DAYS 

"  Two  thousand  against  ten  thousand,"  said  Richard  Winter,  with  an  air 
of  astonishment.  "  And  yet  allow  the  siege  to  linger  for  six  weeks !  With 
fach  odds  in  his  favor,  Sir  Henry  should  have  ended  it  in  two  hours.  But 
six  weeks !  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing !  Did  he  show  fight  at  all  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  answered  the  other.  "He  did  what  he  could  in  that  way. 
But  it  didn't  amount  to  much." 

"  I  should  imagine  not,"  said  Winter,  satirically.  "  And  so,  after  all,  with 
such  astonishing  odds  on  his  side,  he  trusted  to  starving  the  rebels  into  sub- 
mission, in  preference  to  fighting  them !" 

"  Exactly,"  returned  Clark. 

"  He  did  not  evince  much  anxiety  for  his  laurels !"  remarked  Winter,  con- 
temptuously. 

"  Not  a  great  deal,"  said  Clark,  laughingly.  "  Aa  it  was,  the  siege  would 
have  lasted  there  is  no  telling  how  long,  had  not  two  very  important  things 
turned  up  at  the  end  of  that  time." 

"  Indeed.     What  were  they  ?" 

"  In  the  first  place  the  rebels  got  out  of  food ;  in  the  next,  out  of  ammuni- 
tion." 

"  And  then  they  surrendered  ?" 

"  Exactly.  Men  can't  fight  very  long,  when  famine  is  at  their  heels,  and 
powder  out  of  reach." 

"  True.     What  were  the  terms  of  capitulation  ?" 

"  Rather  liberal,  considering  everything.  He  took  possession  of  the  city, 
and  allowed  the  rebels  to  return  to  their  private  affairs  on  condition  of  their 
dropping  their  arms." 

"  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  then,  is  quartered  at  Charleston  ?"  asked  Winter. 

"  No.  He  left  some  time  since  for  the  North.  He  has  been  succeeded  by 
Lord  Cornwallis." 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  is  he  ?" 

"One  of  the  right  sort,"  returned  Clark,  laughingly;  "just  the  fellow  to 
teach  the  rebels  a  lesson.  His  motto  is  that  short  accounts  make  Ion* 
friends." 

"  He  is,  like  his  predecessor,  lenient?" 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  Clark,  with  a  quiet  smile.     "  The  very  reverse." 

The  eyes  of  Richard  Winter  sparkled. 

"  So  soon,"  resumed  Clark,  "as  he  assumed  the  reins  of  power,  he  arrested 
the  leading  rebels,  and  such  of  them  as  he  didn't  hang  or  shoot,  he  threw  into 
prison,  where  they  shortly  after  found  a  release  from  all  of  their  inquietudes." 
'  He  starved  them  ?"  said  Winter,  inquiringly. 

"He  /"  returned  Clark,  with  a  shrug  of  affected  astonishment.  "  Oh,  no. 
The  jailors  forgot  occasionally  to  supply  the  poor  devils  with  food !'" 

'  I  comprehend,"  observed  Winter,  significantly. 

The  eyes  of  Sprague  flashed  at  this  recital,  and  the  muscles  around  his 
mouth  twitched  spasmodically.  Butf  it  was  not  noticed  by  his  companions, 
and  in  a  few  moments  these  signs  of  irritation  passed  quietly  away. 

"  Are  you  familiar,"  asked  Richard  Winter,  with  an  ah-  of  anxiety,  "  with 
tiie  names  of  those  whom  he  executed?" 

"  Yes.  They  were  published."  And  he  mentioned  several,  unknown  to 
the  other,  winding  up  with—1'  That  is  all,  I  believe !" 

Winter  felt  and  looked  disappointed. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  have  mentioned  all  of  them  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Quite,"  replied  Clark.  "  At  least  that  is  all  I  can  call  to  mind.  But  per- 
haps Sprague  is  aware  of  some  that  I  have  forgotten  ?" 

"  No,"  returned  Sprague,  calmly  shaking  his  head,  in  reply  to  their  in- 
quiring looks.  "  You  have  mentioned  them  all." 

"There  were  others,"  said  Richard  Winter,  coloring  slightly,  "sufficiently 
treasonable  to  have  been  included  in  the  list.  Marion,  for  example.  Yoa 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MKRRY    MKN. 

are,  of  course,  aware  of  his  doings  at  Fort  Sullivan.  Then  there  was  that 
insolent,  beggarly  rebel,  Neil  Somers,  and  his  old  chum,  Nat  Akerman,  the 
scalp  hunter ;  together  with  that  young  dare-devil  who  made  himself  so  con- 
spicuous in  the  midst  of  the  battle,  by  rescuing  the  colors  which  had  fallen 
over  the  ramparts  and  nailing  them  to  the  flag  staff.  It  appears  to  me  that 
Cornwallis  has  committed  a  great  mistake  in  not  arresting  these  men.  They 
were  the  most  daring  rascals  in  the  province.  Were  it  not  for  them,  the 
rebels,  whom  they  influence  both  by  their  inflammatory  language  and  their 
pernicious  example,  would  long  ago  have  abandoned  their  insane  attempts  to 
upset  the  government  of  the  king." 

A  careful  observer  might  have  discovered  a  slight  quivering  of  the  lip  in 
Sprague  at  these  remarks. 

"  You  forget  one  very  important  item  in  connection  with  that  observa- 
tion," said  Clark,  quietly. 
("Ah!     What,  is  that?" 

"  This.     Before  you  hang  men,  it  is  first  necessary  to  catch  them." 

"  Very  true,"  said  Richard  Winter,  coloring  to  the  temples.  "  Cornwallis, 
then,  has  not  been  able  to  capture  them  ?" 

"  Not  yet.  One  of  them,  however,  had  received  his  quietus  previous  to 
the  taking  of  Charleston." 

"  Indeed !     His  name  ?"  demanded  Winter,  eagerly. 

"  Jasper." 

"  Ah !  Where  did  he  fall  ?"  asked  Winter,  with  an  air  of  disappoint- 
ment. 

"  At  the  siege  of  Savannah.  As  to  the  others,  they  will  doubtless  be 
taken  sooner  or  later." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so?" 

"  Cornwallis  has  set  a  price  upon  their  heads.  That  is  sure  to  land  out- 
laws as  quick  as  anything !" 

Winter's  eyes  sparkled  at  this  intelligence. 

."  Where  are  they  now  ?"  he  asked. 

"  In  the  swamps,  or  the  mountains — there  is  no  telling  which." 

"  They  are  together,  then  ?" 

"  Certainly.  Marion  is  now  a  general,  and  Somers  and  the  scalp  hunter 
his  leading  oflicers.  They  are  very  harrassing  and  troublesome,  and  with  their 
little  band  give  Cornwallis  so  much  mortification  and  annoyance  that  he 
swears  like  a  trooper." 

"  Why  don't  he  send  out  a  party  to  take  ihem?" 

"  He  has — fifty  at  least." 

"  With  what  success?" 

"  None ;  or  rather,  the  worst.  Marion  is  too  crafty  to  be  caught  napping. 
He  is  here  to-day;  to-morrow  he  is  thirty  miles  off;  the  day  after,  he  is  the 
Lord  knows  where !" 

"  What!     Is  there  no  coming  up  with  him  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  that  sometimes  occurs.     When  the  party  in  pursuit  is  not  more 
than  five  to  one,  he  '11  stand  and  fight.     When  the  odds  exceed  that  number, 
he  prefers  retreat  to  an  exposure  of  his  men." 
-    "  But  surely  he  could  be  followed?" 

"Certainly,  that  could  be  done,  as  it  is  sometimes.  But  then  there's 
the  risk. 

"  What  risk  ?" 

"  The  risk  of  not  getting  back  again!" 

"  I  do  not  understand  you !"  said  Richard  Winter.  "  It  appears  to  me 
that  soldiers  should  never  recognize  such  a  word  as  '  danger !'  " 

"It  appears  they  do,  occasionally,  notwithstanding;  particularly,  when  on 
the  track  of  Marion  and  his  men." 


108  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE 

"  Will  you  oblige  me  with  an  explanation,  Mr.  Clark  ?"  said  Winter,  some- 
what nettled. 

"  Certainly/'  returned  the  other,  in  his  usual  quiet  way.  "  When  Marion 
retreats,  he  generally  does  so  into  swamps,  where  he  knows  every  inch  of 
ground ;  and  once  in  them,  he  plants  himself  and  men  where  the  devil  him- 
self couldn't  find  them ;  and  thus  concealed,  they  blaze  away  at  their  pur- 
suers, whom  they  riddle  to  pieces,  while  they  are  looking  about  to  see  where 
to  fire.  Of  the  fifty  different  parties  sent  out  to  take  the  '  Swamp  Fox,'  as 
Cornwallis  has  facetiously  christened  Marion,  twenty  returned  without  hav- 
ing obtained  a  sight  of  him,  fifteen  did  not  return  at  all,  and  the  remainder, 
though  outnumbering  him  seven  to  one,  remembered  the  fate  of  their  prede- 
cessors, and  thought  it  best  to  decline  following  him  into  the  swamps,  from 
whence  it  was  pretty  evident  he  would  not  permit  them  to  return." 

This  intelligence  was  far  from  gratifying  to  Winter.  He  was  still  as  bent 
as  ever  upon  the  destruction  of  the  planter,  and  the  connexion  of  that  per- 
sonage with  such  a  man  as  Marion,  whose  thorough  familiarity  with  wood, 
swamp  and  mountain  fighting,  set  at  naught  tht  best  efforts  of  the  royalists, 
disturbed  him.  But  another  thought  now  flashed  across  him. 

"  How  about  the  property  of  these  knaves  ?"  said  he,  querulously. 

"  Oh,  that  is  confiscated,"  answered  Clark  "Cornwallis  made  that  one  of 
his  first  moves." 

Richard  Winter's  features  shone  resplendent  with  savage  joy  at  this 
reply. 

"Has  the  law  in  that  respect  been  carried  into  effect?"  he  asked  with 
great  eagerness. 

"  Oh,  yes,  long  ago." 

"  Then  that  insolent  orator,  that  panderer  to  the  rebellious  spirit  of  the 


Clark  regarded  him  with  surprise. 

"  Whom  do  you  mean  ?"  he  said,  interrupting  him. 

"Neil  Somers!"  answered  Winter,  harshly.  • 

"  Oh !"  returned  Clark,  quietly.     "  What  of  him  ?" 

"He,  then,  is  beggared  among  the  rest?" 

"  No  /" 

"No?    You  astonish  me !"  said  Winter,  turning  pale. 

"  Fortunately  for  himself,"  added  Clark,  astonished  at  his  vehemence,  "  he 
had  disposed  of  his  plantation  a  long  time  before." 

Richard  Winter's  countenance  became,  at  this  reply,  perfectly  livid. 

"  A  trick — a  trick !"  he  exclaimed  hoarsely.     "  Nothing  but  a  trick !" 

"  Nay,"  returned  Clark,  surveying  him  with  surprise,  "  the  transfer  is  on 
record." 

"  A  mere  trick  to  blind  the  law!''  exclaimed  Richard  Winter,  perceiving 
the  error  he  had  committed  in  exposing  his  hatred  to  the  planter,  and  stri- 
ving to  redeem  it  by  recovering  himself.  "  Who  was  the  purchaser  ?" 

"  The  widow,  up  the  street." 

"Mrs.  Brunton?" 

"The  same  !" 

Richard  Winter  smote  his  brow  with  his  clenched  hand,  as  if  he  had  been 
shot. 

Sprague,  unnoticed,  surveyed  him  with  a  look  of  calm  contempt 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?"  demanded  Winter. 

:'It  is^so  recorded,"  replied  Clark,  quietly. 

"  But,"  said  Winter,  vehemently,  "  I  tell  you  it  is  a  recorded  lie !  I  know 
this  man — am  familiar  with  his  cowardly  tricks,  and  understand  his  move- 
ments. He  foresaw  the  possibility  of  the  lung's  triumph  in  this  contest,  per- 
ceived the  danger  which  would  follow,  and  to  avoid  it,  put  his  property  out 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  109 

.of  his  hands.    The  move  was  a  good  one,  but  it  was  also  a  fraudulent  one. 
1  will  at  once  unmask  it !" 

Sprague's  brow  grew  for  a  moment  slightly  threatening. 

'  To  whom?"  asked  Clark,  quietly. 

:  To  Cornwallis!" 

'  Cornwallis  is  at  Charleston."- 

1 1  will  at  once  to  Charleston." 

'  When  ?" 

"  This  instant,"  returned  Winter,  springing  from  his  seat. 

"  Don't  be  in  too  great  a  hurry,  and  I'll  save  you  the  journey,"  said  Clark, 
touching  him  gently  upon  the  arm.  "Sit  down." 

"  What  is  it  you  have  to  tell  me  ?"  demanded  Winter,  resuming  his  seat. 

"  Listen,"  said  the  other,  quietly.  "  The  agents  of  Cornwallis  made  the 
same  charge  relative  to  Somers'  prpperty,  that  you  have  just  broached!" 

Winter  bit  his  lips  till  they  bled. 

"  Well,  sir,  what  followed  ?"  he  said,  hoarsely. 

"  They  compelled  the  purchaser,  Mrs.  Brunton,  seeing  that  they  could  not 
find  the  planter  himself,  to  swear  that  the  sale  was  legitimate,  that  she  had 
actually  given  the  stated  consideration  for  it." 

"  And  she  made  an  affidavit  of  that  ?"  said  Winter,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

"  She  did  1" 

The  tory  trembled  with  rage.  A  shade  of  disappointment  passed  like  a 
black  cloud  over  his  features. 

"  So  be  it !"  he  exclaimed,  tossing  off  a  bumper  of  wine.  "  He's  worse  off 
than  I  thought  him ;  for  he  has  doubtless  used  the  money  in  the  felon  cause 
in  which  he  has  engaged." 

"  'Twas  for  that,  according  to  the  statement  of  the  widow,  he  disposed  of 
.the  plantation,"  said  Clark,  quietly. 

"And  how  stands  his  cause,  or  rather  the  rebels',  now?"  demanded 
Winter. 

"  Black  enough.  Without  money,  without  arms,  without  sympathy,  with- 
out homes,  they  are  hunted  from  pillar  .to  post  like  outcasts — their  hand 
against  everybody,  everybody's  hand  against  them.  Their  case  is  bad 
enough." 

"  They  shall  find  it  still  worse ! '  exclaimed  Winter,  fiercely.  "  Traitors 
and  outlaws,  they  shall  meet  with  traitors'  handling  and  with  outlaws'  treat- 
ment It  is  every  honest  man's  duty  to  aid  the  government  in  a  work  like 
this,  and  I'll  take  care  my  share  is  done.  I  have  been  rusting  for  years 
against  my  will,  and  I  long  for  exercise." 

"  You  will  find  plenty  of  that,  if  you  join  in  the  hunt  against  Marion  and 
his  men,"  remarked  Sprague,  calmly. 

"Perhaps  you  would 4ike  to  join  in  it  with  me  ?"  said  Winter. 

"On  the  contrary,"  returned  Sprague. 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  by  that?"  demanded  Winter. 

"  That  I  am  above  -man  hunting !"  returned  Sprague,  sarcastically.  "  1  leave 
such  business  to  those  who  are  made  for  it.  I  am  not  one  of  them.'' 

"  Perhaps  you  think  it  disgraceful  to  serve  one's  country  ?"  returned  Win- 
ter, eyeing  him  fiercely. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  returned  Sprague,  "  I  consider  it  the  noblest  work  a 
gentleman  can  take  up  !" 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  by  that,  sir  ?"  said  Winter  sternly.  "  That 
what  I  propose  to  do  is  not  serving  one's  country  ?" 

"  On  the  contrary,'5  answered  Sprague,  who  was  evidently  a  man  of  very 
few  words.  "  It  is  personal  animosity  which  prompts  you !" 

'•'  You  lie,  sir !"  retorted  Winter,  springing  to  his  feet. 

"On  tke  contrary!"  returned  Sprague,  calmly,  without  stirring  from  his 
seat.  "  The  lie  is  on  your  side !" 


HO  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DATS 

«  D n !  *  cried  Winter,  "  this  insolence  is  not  to  be  borne.  Follow  me, 

sir!" 

And  placing  one  hand  upon  toe  pommel  of  his  rapier,  he  pointed  fiercely 
with  his  other  to  the  door. 

"On  the  contrary!"  replied  the  imperturbable  Sprague,  rising,  and  advanc- 
ing outside  of  the  table.  "  I  will  not  follow  you !" 

"  You  will  meet  me,  then  ?"  said  Winter,  his  eyes  glittering  with  passion. 


"On  the  contrary !"  rejoined  Sprague,  with  a  low,  mocking  bow.  "  I  have 
a  sense  of  self-respect  which  will  not  permit  it!" 

"Explain  that,  sir!"  demanded  Winter. 

"  If  you  wish  it,  certainly.  My  self-respect  compels  me  to  meet  only  gen- 
tlemen!" 

"'What  then,"  demanded  Richard  Winter,  trembling  with  rage,  "  do  you 
consider  me !" 

"  On  the  contrary !"  returned  Sprague,  'with  a  derisive  bow. 

"  Curse  you !"  exclaimed  Richard  Winter,  unsheathing  his  rapier,  '•  I  shall 
chastise  you !'' 

"  On  the  contrary !"  repeated  Sprague,  wi  h  a  contemptuous  movement  of 
his  lip. 

"  Winter — Winter !"  cried  Clark,  laying  his  hand  upon  the  arm  of  the 
young  tory,  "you are  carrying  matters  too  far.  Put  up  your  sword,  man!" 

"Never!"  cried  the  young  man,  struggling  to  throw  him  off.  "Stand 
aside.  Do  you  think  I  am  a  craven  to  tamely  submit  to  insolence  like  that !" 

"  But  hear  me  — " 

"  Stand  aside,  I  say.     No  man  shall  give  me  the  lie,  and  live !" 

"  You  gave  it  to  him  first — " 

"  Give  way,  I  say.     He  shall  swallow  that  word  or  die !" 

"  On  the  contrary !"  calmly  returned  Sprague,  in  a  tone  of  deliberate 
mockery. 

"  Take  off  your  hands,  Clark — let  me  at  him.     Take  off  your  hands,  I  say !" 

"Gentlemen,  gentlemen!"  cried  Barker,  the  landlord,  advancing  with  up- 
lifted and  imploring  hands  from  behind  the  bar.  "  have  some  regard  for  the 
character  of  my  house.  Do  you  wish  to  ruin  me  by  your  broils  ?" 

"Will  you  take  off  your  hands,  Clark?"  cried  Winter,  menacingly. 

"  Mr.  Winter — Mr.  Winter — "  cried  the  landlord  appealingly,  and  stepping 
between  the  combatants. 

li  Go,  then,  if  you  wish  it,"  said  Clark,  releasing  him  with  a  shudder  of  dis- 
gust. 

"  Out  of  the  way,  Barker !"  cried  Winter,  rushing  forward,  roughly  push- 
ing aside  the  landlord,  and  falling  on  Sprague  with  blind  impetuosity.  "  Take 
that,  wretch !"  he  cried,  making  a  pass  as  he  spoke,  for  the  purpose  of  run- 
ning him  through. 

"On  the  contrary,"  rejoined  Sprague,  quietly  stepping  aside  to  avoid  the 
Wow,  and  at  the  same  time  drawing  his  weapon.  "  I  will  take  nothing  of 
you  but  your  sword !" 

"  'Tis  one  thing  to  say,  another  to  do !''  cried  Winter,  foaming  with  pas- 
sion. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  returned  Sprague,  with  imperturbable  calmness,  as  they 
arossed  weapons,  "  I  do  whatever  I  promise  !" 

Five  passes,  and  Winter  was  disarmed. 

The  tory,  baffled  in  his  rage,  ashamed  of  his  braggadocia,  rendered  utterly 
and  ridiculously  impotent  by  his  defeat,  turned  pale  with  rage  and  despair. 

"  Strike !"  he  cried,  throwing  open  his  vest. 

"  That,"  returned  Sprague,  quietly,  "  would  be  taking  away  your  blood  and 
life  ;  while  I  promised  to  take  only  your  sword !" 

So  saying,  he  tendered  the  tory  his  weapon,  and  calmly  sheathing  his  own, 
resumed  his  seat  as  if  nothing  unusual  had  occurred. 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MBRRT    MEN.  Ill 

A  momentary,  sickening  paleness,  a  twitching  of  the  facial  muscles,  a  spas- 
modic tremor  of  the  fingers,  as  he  received  and  returned  his  rapier  to  its 
sheath,  and  Richard  Winter  silently  resumed  his  seat. 

"  Come,"  said  Clark,  who  was  of  a  frank,  open  nature,  "  let  us  drop  these 
matters.  They  don't  become  us,  as  men.  Let  us  drown  them  in  a  bumper. 
Wine,  Barker,  he  added,  turning  to  the  landlord,  "your  best." 

The  host,  glad  to  see  the  affair  ended,  bestirred  himself,  and  three  fresh 
glasses,  flanked  by  an  equal  number  of  wine  flasks  were  deposited  before  the 
trio. 

"  Pill,  gentlemen,  fill,"  cried  Clark,  raising  his  glass  and  glancing  at  his 
companions,  "  and  drink  me  this  toast.  Success  to  the  king  and  confusion  to 
his  enemies !" 

His  efforts  to  restore  harmony  were  utterly  futile.  Winter  drank,  but  it 
was  more  to  calm  his  disturbed  nerves,  than  to  the  toast.  As  to  Sprague, 
he  broke  his  bottle,  and  calmly  filled  his  glass,  but  did  not,  for  some  inexpli- 
cable reason,  raise  it  to  his  lips.  It  might  be  that  he  was  not  in  the  humor  for 
further  drinking,  having  previously  indulged  to  as  great  an  extent  as  was 
habitual  with  him  ;  or  perhaps  the  sentiment  did  not  suit  him.  Whatever 
the  cause,  his  glass  lay  untouched  before  him,  while  he  himself  was  appar- 
ently immersed  in  thought 

At  this  stage,  a  stranger  entered  the  Palmetto,  and  nodding  carelessly  to 
the  trio  at  the  table,  made  his  way  to  the  bar  and  called  for  refreshment. 

His  appearance  pronounced  him  a  traveler.  And  as  he  was  proba- 
bly from  some  of  the  troubled  districts,  the  parties  at  the  inn  were  feverish 
with  anxiety  till  he  had  emptied  his  glass,  and  thus  given  them  an  opportu- 
nity to  question  him. 

The  stranger  was  a  short,  thick  set  personage ;  clad  in  a  coarse  brown 
opat,  vest  and  breeches,  gray  hose  and  low  shoes ;  a  low-crowned,  broad- 
rimmed  hat  of  gray  felt  lay  over  a  hard,  weather-beaten  brow,  whose  small, 
rough  features  were  at  once  expressive  of  strong  sagacity  and  enduring  self 
reliance. 

Having  satisfied  his  thirst,  the  stranger  drew  a  chair  near  the  door,  so  as 
to  catch  the  air,  while  it  at  the  same  time  enabled  him  to  command  a  good 
view  of  the  passers-by  on  the  steet 

"  Warm  day,  friend,"  said  Clark,  winking  to  his  companions  to  allow  him 
uninterrupted  play  in  his  attempt  to  draw  out  the  new  comer. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  man,  slowly,  as  if  weighing  every  word.  "  As  you 
say,  sir — it  is  warm.'' 

"  Where  from ?"  continued  Clark,  pleasantly.     "Down  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  new  comer,  in  the  same  slow,  cautious  tone.  "  Fine 
country  up  here!" 

"  Any  news  stirring  down  your  way  ?"  continued  Clark. 

"  No,  sir.  At  least  nothing  new.  A  week  or  two  ago,  Marion  made  a 
sortie  upon  Georgetown,  but  did  not  succed,  The  kingsmen  were  too  many 
for  him.  and  he  was  compelled  to  draw  off."  Then  running  his  eye  over  the 
face  of  the  country,  as  visible  through  the  open  door,  he  added,  while  tnrn- 
ing  a  little  on  his  chair,  so  as  to  face  the  trio  at  the  table,  "It  is  a  fine  coun- 
try up  here!" 

"  It  is  generally  so  considered,"  returned  Clark. 

"  Much  fighting  down  by  Georgetown  ?"  asked  the  landlord. 

"  No,  sir,  answered  the  man  slowly;  "not  much  fighting.  Some  burning, 
though,  as  usual." 

i'<  By  whom  the  burning?"  enquired  Clark. 

The  stranger  surveyed  his  questioner  with  his  small  ferret-like  eyes,  for  a 
few  moments,  and  then  answered,  cautiously : 

"By  both  parties!" 

Tt  was  quite  plain  the  man  was  too  shrewd  to  be  entrapp.?:;  ,::!o  an  ad- 


112  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

mission  that  might  prove  perilous  to  him.  When  it  is  remembered,  that  in 
the  days  of  which  we  write,  it  was  not  consistent  with  safety  for  men  to  re- 
veal their  political  predilections  to  strangers,  the  caution  displayed  by  the 
new  comer  will  be  understood. 

"  Are  the  rebels  numerous  in  that  section  ?"  demanded  Winter,  speaking 
for  the  first  time  since  the  finale  of  his/racas  with  Sprague,  who  was  quietly 
watching  the  features,  movements  and  by -play  of  the  stranger. 

"  That  depends,  sir,"  said  the  man ,  eyeing  his  interrogator  closely,  "  on 
what  you  would  call  numerous." 

"Do  they  number  scores,  hundreds  or  thousands?"  continued  Winter. 

"If  I  were  to  answer  scores,"  said  the  man,  slowly,  '  I  might  be  wrong 
and  I  might  be  right.  If  I  should  say  hundreds,  I  might  be  nearer  right 
than  wrong!" 

His  auditors  smiled. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Clark,  "  if  I  should  tell  you  we  were  kingsmen  up  here, 
you  might  be  more  at  your  ease!" 

"Ah!  sir,"  returned  the  man,  scanning  him  closely,  "you  seem  to  doubt 
me.  You  look  upon  me  with  suspicion." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Clark,  with  an  encouraging  smile.  "  The  fact  is,  we  are 
dying  to  hear  the  news.  It  is  perfectly  immaterial  what  may  be  ite  charac- 
ter, so  long  as  it  is  news.  As  for  us,  we  are  royalists,  as  are  nearly  all  the 
inhabitants  of  this  quarter ;  and  you  may  therefore  color  your  tidings  to  suit 
your  auditors,  without  in  any  wise  compromising  yourself." 

The  stranger's  ferret-like  eyes  lingered  upon  his  questioner  till  he  had 
finished  speaking,  when  slightly  changing  his  manner,  he  said — 

"  Confidence,  air,  begets  confidence.  I,  too,  am  a  kingsman,  although  I 
would  not  like  to  confess  it,  as  times  go,  in  the  presence  of  those  who  have 
thrown  up  their  allegiance  to  the  king.  As  for  me,  I  am  on  my  way  to 
Charleston,  with  intelligence  for  Cornwallis.  We  have  had  a  deal  of  trouble 
down  in  Georgetown,  with  Marion  and  his  men,  who  have  taken  from  us 
nearly  all  of  our  arms  and  ammunition,  and  left  us  nothing  to  defend  our-* 
selves  with.  We  cannot  hold  out  unless  we  have  the  means ;  and  it  is  to 
obtain  these  I  am  now  on. my  way  to  the  capitol." 

"  Have  the  rascals  done  much  damage  ?"  Demanded  Richard  Winter. 

"Ah!  a  deal  sir,  a  deal!"  returned  the  man,  shaking  his  head,  sadly. 
"  They've  burned  out  hundreds  of  families  and  converted  them  into  beggars. 
The  most  frightful  distress  is  raging  down  there,  sir ;  your  heart  would 
break  to  witness  it.  I  hope  you  may  never  be  visited  by  them  up  this  way 
— it  is  too  fine  a  country  to  be  laid  desolate !" 

This  was  the  third  tune  he  had  complimented  Kingstree  and  its  environs 
by  the  words  we  have  italicized  ;  a  fact,  however,  which  none  of  his  audi- 
tors seemed  to  notice,  save  Sprague.  The  latter  appeared,  judging  by  a 
peculiar  light  in  his  calm,  thoughtful  eyes,  to  behold  in  it  a  matter  of  signifi- 
cance. Looking  around  and  assuring  himself  that  he  was  unobserved  by  all 
save  the  stranger,  he  quietly  raised  his  hand  and  busied  himself  by  an  ap- 
parent examination  of  his  nails.  The  new  comer,  on  perceiving  this,  did  the 
same,  and  a  quiet  smile  on  the  part  of  Sprague  satisfied  him  that  he  was  un- 
derstood. 

"  Where  is  Marion,  uow?"  asked  Winter. 

<;I  cannot  say,"  replied  the  man.  "But  from  what  I  understood  at 
Georgetown,  I  expected  to  find  him  up  here.  You  now  have  the  key  to 
aiy  cautiousness  and  hesitation." 

"Is  he  so  near?"  asked  the  landlord,  in  alarm. 

"  That  was  the  supposition  down  there,"  said  the  stranger.  "  He  Was 
working  his  way  in  this  direction." 

"  He  will  meet  with  a  warm  reception,"  said  Winter.  "  I  hope  he  may 
some.  I,  for  one,  will  extend  him  a  welcome  hand." 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MKN.  113 


"You  ?"  said  the  stranger,  rising  in  apparent  alarm.     "  You  extend 
welcome  hand  !     I  thought  you  were  a  kingsman  !" 

"  Aye,  sir,  and  you  thought  right,"  replied  Winter.  "  I  shall  extend  this 
Swamp  Fox  a  welcome  hand  —  bnt  there  will  be  a  sword  in  it  !" 

The  man  appeared  relieved  at  this  reply,  and  laughingly  resumed  his 
seat. 

"  Really,  sir,"  he  said,  "  I  made  no  allowance  for  your  wit.  Excuse  my 
fright.  I  feared  for  a  moment  that  I  had  got  into  a  nest  of  rebels." 

The  company  smiled. 

"  You  talk  of  the  Swamp  Fox,  sir,"  resumed  the  man,  "  but  he  has  a 
rival." 

"  Yes,"  said  Clark,  quietly.  "  You  mean  that  other  daring  rebel,  Sump- 
ter,  whom  Tarleton  christened  the  '  game-cock.'  " 

The  stranger  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  replied.  "  I  mean  that  matchless  animal  which  fords  creeks  and 
rivers  like  a  fish,  scales  mountains  like  a  panther,  darts  down  hills  like  a  gray 
wolf,  dashes  through  swamps  like  a  light-footed  hind,  slips  over  high  roads 
like  an  arrow,  and  flies  over  battle-fields  like  a  spectre." 

"  You  speak  of  Arrow,  the  Swamp  Steed  !"  said  Clark.  "  Oh,  yes,  we'va 
heard  of  him.  Who  has  not?'1 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  Clark,"  said  Winter.  "  As  to  me,  I  know  nothing  of 
this  matchless  steed  !  Who  is  its  owner,  Marion  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  man.  "  Marion  would  give  his  right  hand  for  him,  as 
would  every  man  in  the  province,  if  that  would  purchase  him  " 

"  Who  is  the  happy  owner  ?"  ' 

"  He  is  called  Neil  Somers,"  answered  the  man,  slowly. 

Winter  bit  his  lip. 

"  You've  heard  of  him  f"  said  the  man,  eyeing  the  tory  piercingly. 

•'  I've  seen  him,"  returned  the  latter,  with  an  effort  to  recover  his  compo- 
sure. 

<(  Lately  ?"  asked  the  man. 

"  No,"  said  Winter,  with  something  of  confusion  in  his  manner. 

"  Because  if  you  had,"  resumed  the  man,  "  you'd  have  seen  horse  and 
owner  together.  They  are  never  apart.  In  fact,  whenever  Arrow  appears 
in  sight,  the  planter  is  sure  to  be  found  upon  his  back." 

"  You  seem  to  be  pretty  familiar  with  this  planter,  as  you  call  him  !"  ob- 
served Richard  Winter,  cynically. 

"  I  ought  to,"  answered  the  man  calmly  ;  "  I've  followed  him  for  some 
time." 

"  What  sir  ?"  demanded  Winter,  suspiciously. 

Sprague,  catching  the  man's  eye,  made  him  a  peculiar  sign. 

"  I  have  followed  him  for  some  time  !"  he  repeated,  without  betraying  any 
alarm.  "  I  am  a  poor  man,  sir,  and  Lord  Cornwallis  offers  five  hundred 
pounds  for  his  head,  and  Tarleton  a  similar  amount  for  his  horse  !" 

Winter  eyed  the  man  for  a  few  moments,  as  if  he  would  read  his  very 
soul,  and  then  turned  away  apparently  satisfied  of  the  injustice  of  his  sus- 
picion. 

Sprague  smiled,  and  making  the  stranger  another  sign,  rose  to  take  his 
departure. 

"  When  do  you  start  for  Charleston  ?"  he  said. 

"  In  a  few  minutes,"  returned  the  man. 

"  Would  you  object  to  earning  a  couple  of  guineas  ?" 

"  Honestly,  sir  r 

"  Honestly,"  returned  Sprague,  haughtily. 

"  Of  course  not,  providing  there  is  no  danger,"  said  the  man. 

"  The  danger  consists  in  the  delivery  of  a  letter  to  a  certain  young  lady, 

15 


1  14  THE   SWAMP   STEED  ;    OR   THE   DATS 

and  the  obtaining  of  a  reply,"  returned  Sprague,  with  an  air  of  assumed  con- 
tempt. 

"  If  that  is  all— " 

"  That  is  all !"  interrupted  Sprague. 

"  Then,  sir.  I  shall  be  happy  to  undertake  your  commission." 

"  Very  well ;  then  follow  me." 

-    Richard  Winter,  who  during  this  brief  colloquy  had  been  pacing  the  floor 
impatiently,  now  paused  and  fixed  his  eyes  suspiciously  upon  them. 

"  There  is  more  in  this  than  meets  the  eye !"  he  murmured.  "  Jugglery  is 
af00t — I'll  sift  it  out ;  and  if,  as  I  suspect,  these  two  men  are  rebels,  wo  unto 
them — wo !" 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  the  man,  catching  the  suspicious  glance  of  Richard 
Winter,  and  assuming  an  air  of  ludicrous  alarm.  "  How  do  I  know  but  this 
is  a  trap  ?" 

"What  do  you  mean,  sirrah  f  returned  Sprague,  drawing  himself  up. 

"I  mean  this,  sir,"  said  the  man  with  well  acted  impudence.  "Awhile 
ago,  I  thought  myself  in  the  hands  of  good  and  loyal  subjects  of  the  king : 
an  accidental  subsequent  admission  half  frightened  me  into  the  belief  that  I 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  handful  of  rebels,  an  opinion  which  I  am  still  inclined 
to  retain.  How  know  I,  sir,  that  the  statement  made  by  one  of  your  com- 
panions that  you  are  royalists  be  true,  and  that  this  is  not  a  trap  to  lead  me 
into  danger?" 

'•  I  give  you  my  word  for  it,  sirrah !"  returned  Sprague,  haughtily. 

"•I  prefer  taking  your  letter,"  retorted  the  man,  perceiving  that  Winter's 
eye  was  still  fixed  upon  him,  though  not  quite  so  suspiciously  as  before. 
"You  can  bring  it  to  me  here,  and  I  will  wait  for  it.  The  reward,  though 
liberal,  is  not  enough  to  induce  me  to  trust  myself  in  your  hands." 

"  Do  you  dare,  sir !"  retorted  Sprague,  ".to  insult  me  in  this  manner.  I'll 
pin  your  vile  carcass  to  the  floor." 

"No  you  won't!"  returned  the  man,  falling  back  a  step  or  two,  plunging 
his  hand  into  his  breast  and  drawing  forth  a  moderately  sized  pistol  which  he 
deliberately  cocked.  "I  carry  this,"  he  added,  leveling  the  dark  tube,  "to 
defend  myself.  Come  on,  sir !" 

Sprague,  still  keeping  his  eyes  on  the  man,  drew  back. 

"  I  did  this  man  a  wrong !"  murmured  Winter,  surveying  the  affected  hu- 
miliation of  his  late  antagonist  with  a  smile  of  malignant  joy. 

•'  I  will  answer  for  your  safety  with  this  gentleman,"  said  Clark,  rising. 

"And  who  will  answer  for  you,  sir?"  retorted  the  man  sneeringly. 

"  That  will  I,"  said  the  landlord,  advancing. 

"Upon  my  word!"  cried  Clark,  laughingly,  "this  is  amusing.  Landlord, 
show  the  fellow  to  the  door." 

"  Go  out,  sir !"  said  the  host,  who,  whatever  might  be  his  own  convictions 
in  the  case,  yet  saw  the  policy  of  humoring  one  of  his  best  customers. 

"  Who'll  put  me  out?"  demanded  the  man,  fiercely. 

"  I  will !"  thundered  Barker. 

"  And  I,"  continued  Clark,  advancing. 

"Stay!"  said  the  man,  lowering  his  pistol,  and  pointing  with  his  jerked 
thumb  toward  the  door.  "  Here  comes  one  who  will  hang  ye  higher  than 
yon  tree  upon  the  green,  if  ye  dare  lay  hands  upon  a  kingsman !" 

The  parties  paused  in  astonishment ;  for  at  that  moment,  breaking  upon 
the  air,  they  heard  distant  strains  of  martial  music. 

"  It  is  Tarleton,"  said  the  man  with  an  air  of  exultation,  ''  on  his  march  to 
surprise  and  capture  Marion,  and  exterminate  his  band." 

"  How  know  you  that  ?"  demanded  Winter,  eagerly. 

"  A  dispatch  reached  Georgetown  to  that  effect,  as  I  left,  stating  that  he 
was  on  his  way !" 

"Enough!"  cried  Winter,  now  thoroughly  satisfied  that  his  represents- 


OP    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  115 

tions  were  correct.  "  I'll  go  and  meet  him.  Barker,"  he  added,  turning  to 
the  landlord,  "  a  horse.  Come,  despatch !" 

"  And  one  for  me  also !"  shouted  Clark,  as  the  host  moved  off  to  give  the 
order.  On  his  return,  the  parties  had  left  the  inn,  and  were  now  out  upon 
the  wayside,  straining  their  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  music. 

The  town  was  in  a  state  of  excitement.  Hundreds  were  running,  on 
horseback  and  on  foot,  to  the  upper  part  of  the  main  street,  to  obtain  a  view 
of  the  soldiery  as  they  appeared  in  sight  upon  the  road. 

The  horses  ordered  were  brought,  and  springing  upon  their  backs,  Winter 
and  his  companion  dashed  off  at  full  speed. 

"  Good!"  muttered  the  innkeeper  to  himself,  as  he  beheld  the  head  of  the 
advancing  column  turning  an  angle,  coming  in  full  view  and  marching  up-  the 
road  leading  to  the  town  house.  '•  This  will  make  a  demand  on  my  larder 
and  bar.  I  must  go  and  prepare  for  them  I" 

As  h;e  spoke,  he  turned  upon  his  heels  and  hurried  into  the  inn. 

As  he  disappeared,  Sprague,  after  looking  around  and  perceiving  that  he 
was  not  observed,  turned  to  the  self-styled  messenger,  and  hurriedly  ob- 
served— 

"  You  did  it  well,  Cotton !  But  what  news  have  you  for  me  ?  How  is 
Mftrion?" 

The  man  looked  round  cautiously,  as  he  replied: 

"  Well,  sir,  well.     But  let  us  not  confer  here." 

"  Follow  me,  then,"  said  Sprague.  And  he  hastily  moved  off  and  turned 
into  the  Georgetown  road,  slowly  but  carefully  followed  by  the  scout. 

They  passed  into  a  small  wood  on  the  wayside,  and  when  they  had  ad- 
vanced sufficiently  far  into  its  depths  to  ensure  them  against  discovery, 
Sprague  began  laughingly — 

"  Cotton,  my  friend,  you  are  a  perfect  Proteus.  You  not  only  deceived 
Winter,  and  the  others,  but  you  were  very  near  blinding  me.  You  acted  it 
admirably !  What  news  from  Marion  ?" 

"  All  goes  well,  sir,"  said  the  scout,  his  whole  manner,  now  that  he  was 
free  from  constraint,  changing  to  an  air  of  deep  respect.  "  The  general  bade 
me  tell  you,  so  that  you  might  communicate  it  to  the  other  friends  of  th« 
cause  in  Kingstree,  that  he  is  now  encamped  at  Snow's  Island,  where  he  will 
be  happy  to  receive  such  assistance,  in  men,  clothing,  ammunition  and  pro- 
visions, together  with  such  intelligence  relative  to  the  movements  of  the  en- 
emy, as  they  may  have  it  in  their  power  to  send  him !" 

"  All  right.  But  who  is  this  man  marching  up  with  bis  legion.  Is  it 
really  Tarleton  ?"  • 

"Yes,  sir,-"  replied  the  scout. 

"  How  did  you  discover  it?" 

"  Very  simply,"  replied  the  man.  "I  was  down  on  that  road  this  morning 
myself,  to  see  my  sweetheart,  and  as  her  brother  is  in  the  tory  ranks,  to  pick 
ap  what  I  could  of  the  enemy's  movements.  She  told  me  Tarleton  was  on 
his  way  to  Georgetown,  by  order  of  Cornwallis,  to  track  Marion  who  was 
supposed  to  be  in  that  neighborhood.  While  we  were  conversing,  the  sound 
of  music  warned  us  the  Englishman  was  approaching.  In  a  few  minutes 
Tarleton  appeared  at  the  head  of  his  legion,  and  taking  leave  of  my  sweet- 
heart, I  crossed  the  road,  slipped  through  a  wood,  and  came  out  by  a  cross 
cut  near  the  head  of  Ejngstree,  thus  entering  the  town  an  hour  and  a  half  in 
advance  of  the  Colonel." 

"  Then  the  Georgetown  story  was  all  a  guy  f 

"Every  particle  of  it,  sir.  Hark !  Tarleton  is  nearing  the  town.  I  must 
be  off." 

"  Which  way  ?" 

"  I  have  a  letter  to  deliver  to  Miss  Winter,  down  the  road,  and  a  service  to 
perform  for  myself,  and  then  I  must  off  to  Snow's  Island." 


I IQ  THE    SWAMP    STEED  j    OR    THE    DAYS 

"  A  moment,"  said  Sprague,  plunging  his  hand  into  a  breast  pocket,  and 
drawing  forth  a  well  filled  purse.  "  Here  are  two  hundred  guineas,  which  I 
have  collected  from  our  friends  for  the  cause.  Give  them  to  Marion,  with 
my  best  respects.  Remember  me  also  to  my  friend  Somers,  and  tell  him  he 
still  has  friends  who  love  him  in  Kingstree." 

"  I  will,  sir,"  said  the  scout.  "  Farewell.  Though  clouded  now,  the  sun 
will  yet  shine  on  us  and  on  our  cause?" 

"  God  grant  it!"  said  Sprague,  solemnly. 

And  they  shook  hands,  and  parted. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

WHEN  alone,  the  scout  proceeded  deliberately  to  divest  himself  of  his  coat 
and  small  clothes,  which  he  turned,  one  after  another,  inside  out,  and  then 
resumed.  This  done,  he  drew  from  the  capacious  pockets  of  the  larger  gar- 
ment a  pair  of  dingy  epaulettes,  which  he  affixed  to  their  proper  places,  and 
then  surveyed  them  for  an  instant  with  a  quiet,  mischievous  glance.  Then 
renewing  his  search  in  the  ample  pockets,  he  drew  forth  a  short,  soiled 
plume,  some  thick,  yellow  cord,  a  glazed  stock,  and,  a  pair  of  artificial  whis- 
kers. He  put  the  plume  in  his  hat,  around  the  body  of  which  he  also  fanci- 
fully arranged  the  cord,  fastened  the  stock  to  his  neck,  carefully  drew  on  the 
whiskers,  buttoned  the  coat  as  high  as  his  throat,  and  thus  singularly  trans- 
formed, stepped  lightly  from  the  wood  out  upon  the  road. 

"  Many  a  man  carries  two  faces  in  these  days,"  murmured  the  scout,  as  he 
strutted  consequentially  along,  "  and  why  should  not  I  be  permitted  to  car- 
ry two  coats,  especially  when  they  are  like  mine,  in  one  piece  ?  The  fact 
is,  in  times  like  these,  most  men  find  it  necessary  to  be  a  little  of  everything 
at  times,  and  nothing  long.  I  am  one  of  that  unfortunate  class.  Fifteen 
minutes  ago  I  was  a  plain  hard-headed  looking  citizen,  and  now  I  am  a  swag- 
gering corporal,  in  the  service  of  good  King  George,  ready  to  fight  or  drink, 
but  vastly  preferring  the  latter.  But.  soft !  What's  my  name  ?  It  will  never 
do  for  a  corporal  to  be  without  a  name.  Ah !  I  have  it.  Corporal  Doem ! 
That's  it,  to  a  letter.  So  head  up,  Corporal  Doem,  and  forward — march !" 

A  few  minutes'  travel  brought  him  to  a  large,  neatly  fenced  garden,  in  the 
centre  of  which  stood  a  spacious,  three  story  building,  with  a  long  deep  piazza 
whose  over-arching  roof  served  to  shield  its  occupants  from  the  sun,  and 
whose  front  was  handsomely  garnished  by  a  series  of  fine  Ionic  columns. 

Sitting  on  the  piazza,  engaged  in  reading,  were  two  persons— a  gentleman 
of  about  fifty,  and  a  young  lady  of  some  two-and-twenty. 

"  This  is  the  place,"  muttered  the  corporal,  deliberately  opening  the  gate 
and  passing  up  the  gravelled  walk.  "  I  know  it  by  the  description." 

With  all  the  impudence  of  a  genuine  corporal,  he  calmly  ascended  the  steps, 
and  approaching  the  old  gentleman,  raised  his  hand  to  his  hat,  with  a  mili- 
tary salute,  and,  clearing  his  voice,  began,  in  the  rough,  studied,  monotonous 
tone  of  a  soldier — 

"  How  do  you  do,  sir.     Mr.  Winter,  I  believe?" 

"  The  same,  sir,"  returned  the  old  gentleman,  raising  his  eyes,  in  half  vacant 
wonder,  to  his  visitor.  "Whom  have  I  the  honor  of  addressing  ?" 

"  Corporal  Doem,  sir,"  returned  the  other,  gruffly,  "of  his  Britannic  Majes- 
ty's 91st.  Colonel  Tarleton  has  commissioned  me  to  tender  his  best  com- 
pliments to  you,  sir,  and  to  inform  you  that  he  will  do  himself  the  honor  to 
•wait  upon  you  early  to-morrow  morning." 

An  expression  of  astonishment  passed  over  the  old  gentleman's  face  at  thia 
intelligence,  followed  an  instant  later  by  a  flash  of  iQ  concealed  pride. 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  117 

"Colonel  Tarleton!"  he  exclaimed,  rising  hastily  from  his  seat,  as  if  he 
could  scarcely  credit  the  news.  "  Where  is  ne  now  ?" 

"At  the  sign  of  the  Palmetto,  sir — at  Kingstree — with  your  son,  sir,  who, 
hearing  of  his  approach,  went  out  to  meet  him." 

"Bless  my  soul!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Winter,  "this  is  indeed  news.  Take  a 
seat,  sir." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  corporal,  "  but  not  yours.  If  there  were  more  than 
one  here,  sir,  I  should  not  object.  But  I  cannot  take  yours,  sir." 

"Poh!  poh!  my  friend!"  cried  the  delighted  old  gentleman,  "don't  let 
that  trouble  you.  There  are  plenty  in  the  hall." 

So  saying,  he  hurried  from  the  piazza. 

"  This  is  doubtless  as  good  an  opportunity  as  I  shall  have,"  muttered  the 
scout,  fumbling  in  his  coat  pocket  and  drawing  out  a  letter.  Holding  it  up 
before  him,  he  hastily  advanced  towards  Amy,  and  threw  it  into  her  lap. 

"  Quick,  lady,"  he  muttered,  in  a  hurried  whisper,  "  'tis  from  Somers — 
hide  it." 

Amy  regarded  him  for  a  moment  with  astonishment.  The  name  of  her 
lover,  however  was  a  magic  spell  which  restored  her  to  self-possession. 
Hearing  her  father's  returning  footsteps,  she  quietly  dropped  her  handkerchief 
upon  the  letter,  and  resumed  her  book,  in  the  perusal  of  which  she  had  been 
interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  the  corporal. 

Mr.  Winter  now  returned  to  the  piazza,  followed  by  two  servants,  the  one 
bearing  a  small  table,  the  other  a  salver  on  which  were  a  mysterious  black 
bottle  and  two  long  necked  glasses. 

"  Bravo !"  muttered  Cotton,  on  beholding  these  preparations,  "the old  gen- 
tleman intends  to  do  honor  to  Tarleton's  messenger.  Well,  I  have  no  objec- 
tions." , 

The  table  was  set,  an  additional  chair  brought  the  servants  vanished,  and 
the  scout,  in  compliance  with  a  motion  of  Mr.  Winter's  hand,  seated  himself 
to  open  an  engagement  with  the  mysterious  bottle. 

Amy,  perceiving  how  matters  were  going,  rose,  and  quietly  entering  the 
house,  left  the  gentlemen  to  themselves. 
,  "  Try  some  of  my  peach  brandy,  corporal — what  is  it?" 

"  Doem !"  suggested  Cotton,  modestly. 

"  Ah;  yes.  Well,  corporal  Doem,"  said  Mr.  Winter,  blandly,  "oblige  me 
by  tasting  some  of  my  peach  brandy.  It  is  very  fine,  I  assure  you.  Made 
under  my  own  direction.  Nay,  don't  be  afraid,  corporal,"  he  added,  seeing 
that  that  worthy  treated  his  glass  rather  modestly,  "  its'  mild  as  oil,  and 
plenty  of  it"  j^ 

Thus  adjured,  Cotton  filled  his  glass  to  the  brim,  and  tossed  it  off  like  so 
much  water. 

Mr.  Winter  gazed  at  him  in  smiling  astonishment. 

"  Nothing  like  that  in  the  army  ?"  he  observed. 

"  Nothing,  sir !"  returned  the  scout,  conscious  that  he  was  telling  the  na- 
ked truth.  For  in  his  regiment  there  was  not  a  particle  of  liquor. 

"  I  thought  so !"  said  Mr.  Winter  with  smiling  satisfaction.  "  It  was  made 
under  my  own  supervision.  There  is  nothing  like  it  within  twenty  miles." 

"  I  should  say  not,  sir,"  ventured  Cotton,  "  nor  anywhere  else,  either !" 

"  Fill  again,  sir !"  suggested  Mr.  Winter,  pleased  at  the  flattery.  "  Fill,  air. 
Don't  be  afraid.  There  is  plenty  of  it  My  cellar's  full  of  it !" 

"  Is  it?     I'll  remember  that !"  muttered  the  scout. 

"  Tell  me  about  Tarleton,"  said  Mr.  Winter,  who,  Cotton  observed,  had 
filled  his  own  glass,  but  carefully  refrained  from  touching  it. 

"  Ah !"  muttered  the  scout.  "  I  see  his  drift.  He  fills  me  to  drain  me. 
Very  good!  He  shall  have  as  much  information  as  he  desiree.  Drinks  noth- 
ing himself,  either !  Cunning  old  rascal.  I'll  punish  him !  What  shall  I  tell 
you,  sir  ?"  he  said  aloud. 


HQ  THE    SWAMP    STEED  j    OR   THE    DAYS 

"All  about  him,"  said  Mr.  Winter,  encouragingly. 

"  Long  job,  sir,"  replied  the  scout,  imitating  the  rough  manner  and  brusque 
voice  of  his  character.  "  Take  too  much  time;  have  only  a  few  minutes  to 
spare.  Colonel  expects  me  back  by  one  o'clock;  now  half-past  twelve. 
Propound  questions :  I  will  answer." 

"Very  good,  corporal — what  is  it?     My  memory  is  so  bad!     Corporal — " 

"Doem !"  said  the  scout,  curtly. 

"  Ah!  yes.     Well,  then,  the  colonel  is  rich,  I  suppose  ?" 

"Very.     Hundred  thousand  a-year." 

"  Bless  me !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Winter,  with  sparkling  eyes.     "Married  1" 

"  Single !"  returned  the  scout,  brusquely. 

"  Young  ?" 

"Thirty-three!"   . 

"Dear  me!     And  brave?" 

"  As  a  lion." 

"Keen,  too?" 

"As  his  sword." 

"  Bless  me !    Of  a  good  memory  ?" 

"  Perfect.    Never  forgets  his  friends,"  answered  the  scout,  impressively. 

w  Dear  me !  A  wonderful  man !  And  my  son,  my  Richard  you  say,  cor- 
poral— " 

"  Doem !"  suggested  the  scout. 

"  Ah !  yes.  My  son,  you  say,  is  familiar  with  him.  He  might  be  Able  to 
do  something  for  him." 

"  Sure  to !"  volunteered  the  scout  "  Colonel  never  takes  a  man  by  the 
hand,  without  doing  him  a  friendly  turn." 

Mr.  Winter  could  scarcely  restrain  himself.  Visions  floated  before  him. 
Knowing  his  son's  abilities  and  ambition,  and  his  daughter's  beauty — the  old 
man  paused — the  picture  was  too  tempting ! 

"  And  he  will  be  here  to-morrow !"  he  murmured.  "  Amy  must  be  pre- 
pared for  this!" 

He  paused  again. 

The  scout's  ferret  eye  was  fastened  upon  him,  reading  his  thoughts  with 
the  unerring  precision  of  a  keen  and  experienced  mind. 

"This  is  the  moment  to  strike !"  he  muttered.  "If  I  might  suggest,  sir," 
he  ventured,  slowly,  "  it  might  be  advantageous  to  your  son,  if  you  were  to 
present  the  colonel  with  a  good  horse,  if  you  have  one.  His  own  he  lost 
yesterday  in  battle,  and  the  one  he  has  since  used  is  a  worn  out  hack.  I 
throw  this  out  as  a  friend — it  would  be  thousands  in  your  pocket,  indepen- 
dent of  the  influence  it  would  exert  in  favor  of  your  son.  ^Think  of.  it  sir! 

"The  very  thing!"  muttered  Mr.  Winter,  greedily. 

"  He  bites !"  murmured  the  scout,  stealing  a  sly  glance  at  his  host. 

"  You  think  the  colonel  would  not  take  it  as  an  insult,  corporal  ?"  asked 
Mr.  Winter,  with,  an  anxious  brow. 

"Certain  of  it!"  answered  the  scout,  brusquely.  "  But  one  thing  must  be 
counted  on." 

"What's  that,  corporal?" 

"The  colonel  will  make  you  take  something  in  return.  He  is  very  proud 
in  that  respect.  There  was  Sergeant  Grantley's  case,  for  example.  Ever 
hear  of  it?" 

."Never,  corporal." 

"  The  affair  occurred  about  a  month  back,  in  the  very  heat  of  an  engage- 
ment. The  colonel  was  fighting  hand  to  hand  with  a  rebel  captain,  when  his 
sword  suddenly  shivered  to  the  hilt.  His  antagonist  was  in  ecstasies,  and  was 
in  the  act  of  raising  his  weapon  to  split  the  colonel's  skull,  when  Sergeant 
Grantley,  seeing  his  danger,  stepped  up  and,  quick  as  thought,  handed  him 
his  own  sword.  It  was  a  rough  but  serviceable  piece  of  steel,  as  the  rebel 


OJf    MARION    AND   HIS   MERRY    MEN.  119 

captain  speedily  found;  for  ere  he  could  bring  down  his  blade,  Tarleton  bent 
forward  and  ran  the  sergeant's  timely  weapon  through  his  breast.  The  fel- 
low gave  a  glance  of  surprise,  turned  pale,  quivered,  and,  slipping  from  his 
saddle,  fell  to  the  earth — dead." 

"  Shocking!"  muttered  Mr.  Winter,  with  a  shudder. 

"Very,  for  the  poor  rebel  captain,"  observed  the  scout,  philosophically. 

"  What  was  the  sequel  ?''  inquired  Mr.  Winter,  with  an  air  of  deep  in- 
terest. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  answered  the  scout.  "  As  the  captain  fell,  Tarleton,  turning 
to  G-rantley,  said,  '  Take  this  sword,  sargeant,  and  use  it  till  the  battle  is  over. 
When  we  reach  the  city,  I'll  give  you  another!'  A  few  days  afterward  they 
were  in  Charleston,  and  the  colonel  purchased  a  magnificant  blade,  the 
mounting  alone  of  which  cost  upward  of  a  hundred  pounds,  and  attaching  to 
it  a  sealed  paper,  sent  it  with  his  compliments  to  the  sergeant.  The  latter 
opened  'the  document,  and  read  it  with  humid  eyes.  Guess  what  it  con- 
tained." 

"  Nay;".  said  Mr.  Winter,  joyfully  rubbing  his  hands,  "  my  imaginative 
powers  are  so  poor.!" 

"  It  was  a  commission  for  a  captaincy  from  the  grateful  Tarleton  to  the 
man,  who,  at  a  timely  hour,  merely  loaned  him  his  sword." 

An  expression  of  hope  and  joy  passed  over  the  bland  features  of  his  au- 
ditor. 

"  The  old  shark  bites!"  muttered  the  scout,  observing  him. 

"And  this,"  said  Mr.  Winter,  "is,  you  think,  another  timely  hour?" 

"  I  tell  it  to  you  as  a  friend,"  said  the  scout,  in  a  maudlin,  confidential 
tone. 

"He  would  feel  grateful,  you  think,  corporal — what  is  it?  my  memory  is 
so  bad?  Corporal — " 

"Doem!"  suggested  the  scout,  with  a  mental  chuckle. 

"  Ah !  yes.  You  think,  then,  Corporal  Doem,  the  colonel  would  not  forget 
the  interests  of  myself  and  son,  if  I  were  to  send  him,  at  this  juncture,  when, 
as  you  say,  he  is  so  much  in  need  of  it,  a  fine,  dashing  horse  ?" 

"  I'm  sure  of  it,"  said  the  scout,  confidentially. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  corporal !"  said  the  old  gentleman,  extending  his 
hand,  which  the  other  took  and  quietly  pressed  till  the  tears  started  into 
its  owner's  eyes.  "You  are,  indeed,  a  friend!"  added  Mr.  Winter,  wincing 
under  the  pressure.  , 

"I  am  glad  you  think  so,"  muttered  the  scout,  "  for  I  have  some  doubts  of 
it  myself!" 

"  How  shall  I  I^Btify  my  gratitude  ?" 

"  Don't  mention  it,"  said  the  corporal,  modestly. 

"  I  have  a  time-piece  here,"  continued  Mr.  Winter,  drawing  a  stout,  old-  . 
fashioned  bull's  eye  from  his  fob  and  dropping  into  his  hand ;  "  honor  me 
by  accepting  it !" 

"  Since  you  insist  upon  it,  be  it  so !"  returned  the  corporal,  impudently  ex- 
amining it  for  a  few  moments  with  the  air  of  one  conferring  a  great  kindness, 
and  then  coolly  depositing  it  into  his  pocket. 

"  I  do,  corporal,  I  do !"  said  the  old  gentleman,  blandly.  "  Now,  corporal, 
might  I  request  of  you  the  performance  of  a  favor  ?" 

"  A  thousand  !"  returned  the  corporal,  generously. 

"Nay,  said  Mr.  Winter,  smilingly,  "I  shall  not  be 


so  cruel.     I  shall  ask 

but  one !" 

;'  Name  it,"  said  the  corporal,  heroically,  "  and  it  is  done  !" 

"  You  are  very  good,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  with  a  flattering  air.    "  What 

I  wish  to  ask  of  you  is  the  favor  to  take  my  h»rse  Selim  to  Colonel  Tarleton, 

and  present  him  to  him  with  my  compliments  !" 
"  Is  he  spirited  ?"  asked  the  corporal. 


12Q  THE    SWAMP    STEED  |    OR    THE    DAYS 

"He  is  of  pure  blood,"  replied  Mr.  Winter,  proudly. 

"Swift?" 

"  As  an  eagle." 

"Your  fortune  is  made,  sir!"  cried  the  corporal,  seizing  his  hand  and 
shaking  it  enthusiastically.  "Your  fortune  is  made,  sir,  as  well  as  that  of 
your  son.  A  more  acceptable,  and,  permit  me  to  add,  sir,  a  more  profitable 
present,  so  far  as  yourself  and  family  are  concerned,  could  not  be  made  to 
Colonel  Tarleton.  He  will  go  wild  with  rapture  at  such  a  gift,  and  feel  him- 
self under  such  obligations  for  it  as  to  consider  your  interest  his  own,  sir. 
Permit  me,  Mr.  Winter,  to  congratulate  you !" 

"  Do  you  think  so,  corporal  ?"  said  the  latter,  his  thin,  sharp,  calculating 
features  radiant  with  happiness. 

"  Sure  of  it>  Mr.  Winter,"  said  the  corporal,  enthusiastically.  "  But  see, 
there  is  a  shower  coming  up.  And — really,  I  had  almost  forgotten  it — it 
must  be  near  one  o'clock. ' 

"  Excuse  me — excuse  me !"  cried  Mr.  Winter,  "the  fault  is  mine  for  detain- 
ing you.  I'll  go  and  hurry  out  Selim.  I'll '  be  with  you  in  a  minute,  cor- 
poral !" 

As  he  spoke,  he  hurried  from  the  piazza. 

"  The  hook  is  in  his  gills — the  old  tory  is  caught !"  muttered  the  scout, 
when  alone.  "  He  swallows  bait  and  all !  So  much  the  better  for  me.  I 
shall  at  last  have  a  horse.  I've  wanted  one  long  enough,  as  my  poor  legs, 
wearied  with  many  a  long  journey,  will  gladly  testify.  Too  poor  to  buy  one 
myself,  the  general  has  none  to  give  me,  and  the  enemy  must  perforce  supply 
one ;  and  why  not  this  old  rogue,  who  they  say  is  rich  and  crafty,  and  un- 
scrupulous in  his  dealings  with  the  rebels,  as  well  as  any  one  else  ?" 

As  he  reached  this  stage  of  his  cogitations,  a  slight  touch  on  his  shoulder 
caused  him  to  start  Turning  he  beheld  Miss  Winter,  with  a  note  in  her 
hand. 

"  Will  you  take  this  to  Mr.  Somers?"  she  said,  in  a  clear  but  hurried  whis- 
per, while  a  roguish  smile  played  around  her  mouth. 

"  By  all  means,  miss,"  responded  the  scout,  taking  the  proffered  letter  and 
concealing  it  in  his  breast.  Then,  as  he  noticed  the  peculiar  expression  which 
played  upon  her  features,  he  colored,  muttering  to  himself  at  the  same  time 
— "  She  is  aware  of  the  trick  I  am  coming  upon  the  old  gentleman.  It's  all 
up  with  me !" 

Amy  looked  at  him  with  a  meaning  eye  for  a  few  moments,  and  then 
exclaimed  with  a  low,  silver  laugh — 

"  You  are  a  very  naughty  man,  sir,  in  thus  duping  my  fattier.  But  I  sup- 
pose the  cause  requires  it,  and  therefore  I  must  say  nothingjlabout  it !" 

"  It's  all  right !"  muttered  the  scout,  his  fear  vanishing  with  her  last  words. 
"  That's  it,  miss,"  he  said  aloud,  with  his  usual  impudence,  "  it's  for  the  sake 
of  ihe  cause  I'm  doing  it.  I'm  a  poor  devil,  miss,  in  the  service  of  my  strug- 
gling country,  and  I  want  a  horse  badly !" 

"  I  presume  so,  sir,"  returned  Amy,  smiling  at  his  deliberate  effrontery ; 
"  and  as  I  feel  somewhat  interested  in  the  success  of  the  cause  in  which  you 
are  employed,  I  shall  not  betray  you." 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  'to  you,  miss,"  said  the  scout,  with  a  profound 
bow. 

"  But  be  careful,"  added  the  young  lady,  archly  raising  her  fore  finger  as 
she  withdrew,  "your  dupe  is  my  father;  you  must  not  bleed  him  too 
freely!" 

"  Fear  not,  miss,"  replied  the  scout,  placing  his  baud  upon  his  breast,  and 
making  another  deep  bow.  "  I  shall  touch  him  lightly — for  your  sake  1" 

Miss  Winter,  upon  receiving  this  reply,  hurried  from  the  piazza,  shaking 
with  restrained  laughter  at  his  impudence. 

"  Sensible  young  lady,  that!"  muttered  the  scout,  as  she  disappeared.     '  If 


OF   MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  121 

her  lover  were  not  interested  in  my  return,  which  she  knows  well  enough, 
she  would  make  no  bones  of  exposing  me.  It's  all  right,  however.  I  am 
safe,  and  she  is  a  devilish  fine  girl.  Hark !  I'hear  the  tramp  of  Selim.  His 
tery  master  little  dreams  of  the  lift  he  is  giving,  with  his  horse,  to  the  cause. 
It  would  be  a  fine  joke  to  let  him  know  it  when  I'm  in  the  saddle !" 

As  he  concluded  these  mental  observations,  the  scout  threw  his  eyes  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound,  and  beheld  a  negro,  leading  by  the  bridle,  up  a  wide 
carriage  path,  a  proud,  stately  horse,  full  sixteen  hands  high,  whose  brilliant 
proportions  and  dashing  appearance  challenged  his  highest  admiration. 

"  Ah  I"  he  murmured,  with  difficulty  restraining  a  burst  of  enthusiasm, 
"  who  says  the  rebels  cannot  boast  of  respectable  chargers  to  bear  them  into 
battle  !  It  is  really  very  good  in  the  old  gentleman  to  furnish  us  with  such  a 
princely  addition  to  our  horse  flesh !  He  can't  possibly  conceive  the  im- 
mense obligations  he  is  placing  us  under !" 

By  this  time  the  negro  and  the  horse,  together  with  Mr.  Winter,  had 
reached  the  gate  and  passed  through  it  to  the  road. 

At  a  sign  from  the  old  man,  the  scout  descended  the  piazza,  crossed  tJtie 
gravelled  pathway,  and  joined  the  group ;  and  this  with  all  the  calmness,  dig- 
nity and  consequence  befitting  the  character  of  a  corporal. 

"  There,"  said  the  host,  with  an  expression  of  triumphant  pride,  and  point- 
ing to  the  animal,  "  isn't  he  worthy  of  a  monarch !" 

The  scout  silently  examined  the  horse  with  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur,  and 
then  answered  in  a  subdued  voice — "I  have  but  one  word  to  say,  in  reply. 
Mr.  Winter,  your  fortune  is  made !" 

"  I  knew  he'd  surprise  you !"  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman,  exultingly. 
"  Stay!"  he  added,  as  he  glanced  at  the  animal.  "  The  gift  should  be  com- 
plete. I  have  a  pair  of  silver-mounted  pistols.  They  shall  go  with  him!" 

"  Mr.  Winter,"  said  the  corporal,  admonishingly,  "  the  beginning  of  a  heavy 
shower  is  upon  us.  I  shall  be  drenched !" 

"  Dick !"  cried  the  old  gentleman,  turning  to  the  black,  "  run  to  my  room, 
and  bring  down  my  new  saddle,  holsters  and  pistols,  Fly.  rascal,  fly!" 

The  negro  had  scarcely  taken  five  steps  when  a  flash  of  golden  fire  illumi- 
nad  for  an  instant  the  black  rolling  masses  of  cloud  above  them ;  this  was 
followed  by  a  sharp,  deafening  thunder-clap,  and  the  rain  drops,  which  had 
previously  been  light  and  of  comparatively  little  consequence,  fell  thick  and 
fast. 

"Mr.  Winter,  Mr.  Winter!"  exclaimed  the  scout,  "how  shall  I  dare,  thus 
soaked,  to  present  myself  to  the  colonel  ?" 

"Stay,  a  moment,"  said  the  latter,  anxiously.  "Hold  Selim  by  the  bridle, 
and  I'll  run  and  get  you  my  top  coat  You  can  bring  or  send  it  back  to- 
morrow, or  next  day !" 

:<  Very  true !"  observed  the  corporal,  taking  the  bridle,  while  Mr.  Whiter 
hurried  to  the  house.  "All's  fair  in  love  and  war!"  continued  Cotton,  to 
himself.  "  I  am  in  want  of  a  coat>  because  it  rains,  and  I  have  no  desire  to 
be  wet  to  the  skin,  and  this  old  tory  can  very  easily  spare  me  his  and  obtain 
another  in  its  place.  I  am  in  want  of  a  horse,  and  this  old  fellow  can  very 
well  do  without  his.  As  for  the  saddle,  holsters  and  pistols,  they  are  his 
own  offer ;  if  I  accept  them,  as  I  certainly  shall,  they  will  do  good  service  to 
the  cause,  and  when  the  war  is  over,  I  may  possibly  return  them  to  him,  but 
certainly  not  before!  Upon  my  word!  the  old  rascal  ought  to  throw  some 
guineas  in,  to  boot,  for  they  are  articles  my  pocket  would  eagerly  welcome, 
the  poor  thing  not  having  seen  anything  more  respectable  than  a  half  crown 
for  many  a  long  day.  I  wonder  how  he  would  regard  the  matter,  if  I  should 
hint  it  to  him  ?  Certainly  it  wouldn't  be  a  bad  idea  on  my  part,  in  case  I 
got  the  money !  Money !  A  magic  word !  We  sometimes  hear  of  it  in  our 
camp  I" 

Mr.  Winter,  bearing  a  large,  comfortable  drab  overcoat,  and  the  negro 
16 


122  THE    SWAMP    STEED  j    OR    THE    DAYS 

Dick,  carrying  a  magnificent  saddle,  with  showy  holsters,  now  made  their 
appearance,  and  the  scout  was  compelled  to  bring  his  cogitations  to  a  close. 

"  Wrap  yourself  in  this,  corpora^"  said  the  old  gentleman,  tossing  him  the 
coat  "  while  I  help  Dick  to  buckle  up  the  saddle." 

"I'll  do  that  without  much  urging !"  muttered  the  scout  "Bravo!"  he 
continued,  as  he  threw  on  the  garment,  "  when  the  cold  nights  come  again, 
I  know  of  one  rebel,  at  least,  who'll  sleep  without  complaining  of  the  holes  hi 
his  blanket !" 

It  took  but  a  short  time  to  get  everything  in  readiness,  and  the  scout 
sprang  into  the  saddle. 

"  A  word,  corporal,"  said  Mr.  Winter,  approaching  him  ;  "  be  particular 
in  calling  Colonel  Tarleton's  attention  to  the  pistols  in  the  holsters.  They  are 
silver  mounted." 

"  The  instant  I  meet  him  !"  murmured  the  scout,  as  he  winked  confiden- 
tially in  reply.  "  When  I  meet  him,  I  will  most  assuredly  call  his  attention 
— to  their  contents  !" 

"  You'll  not  forget  to  give  him  my  best  compliments  ?"  continued  the  old 
gentleman. 

"  I'll  forget  nothing,  Mr.  Winter.  When  I  see  him,  you  shall  not  be  for- 
gotten. Ah !  sir,"  he  added  impressively,  "  you  can't  begin  to  estimate  the 
fortune  you  haye  laid  the  foundation  of  to-day !" 

He  waived  his  hand  to  the  old  gentleman,  and  touching  the  flank  of 
Selim,  was,  in  another  moment,  dashing  off  at  a  break-neck  pace  in  the  di- 
rection of  Kingstree,  muttering — 

"  And  that  is  true  enough !  If  the  calculating  old  sinner  is  ever  able  to 
count  upon  the  good  fortune  arising  from  this  investment,  it  will  be  by  an 
entirely  new  rule  of  arithmetic !" 

A  bend  in  the  road  took  him  out  of  sight  of  Mr.  Winter  and  the  negro, 
when  he  checked  the  speed  of  his  horse,  and  slowly  turned  off  to  the  right. 

"  Now,  then,  Selim,"  he  said,  patting  the  neck  of  the  animal  encouraging- 
ly, "  you  mus'nt  be  vexed  at  this  change  of  masters.  The  fact  is,  you  are 
too  noble  a  fellow  to  serve  in  the  ranks  of  the  Britishers,  who  hav'nt  soul 
enough  to  appreciate  your  noble  qualities ;  and  that  is  the  reason  why,  when 
I  saw  you  the  other  day  carrying  the  old  tory  sinner  through  to  Kingstree, 
that  I  resolved  to  take  you,  under  my  protection.  Like  mine,  you  restive 
devil,  you,  your  spirit  rebels  at  tyranny,  and  therefore  it  is  but  right  I  should 
enlist  your  services  under  the  continental  flag.  So,  young  gentleman,  now 
that  I  have  explained  matters,  I  want  you  to  show  your  blood  by  taking  me 
to  the  camp  at  Snow's  Island  in  a  little  the  tallest  time  ever  seen  in  these 
parts.  Are  you  ready,  sir  ?  You  are,  are  you  ?  Travel,  then !'' 

And  Selim,  as  if  comprehending  that  he  had  a  reputation  to  win,  called  up 
his  princeuest  energies,  gave  one  spring  forward,  and  in  compliance  with  his 
rider's  peculiarly  expressive  order,  iravelkd. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

_  UPON  coming  up  with  Colonel  Tarleton,  Richard  Winter  found  but  little 
difficulty  in  making  his  acquaintance. 

The  English  colonel  was  a  man  of  the  world,  and  very  approachable. 
Skilful  and  chivalrous  in  the  field,  he  commanded  the  admiration  of  his  sol- 
dieue ;  free  and  open  in  his  manner,  profuse,  generous  and  punctual  in  his 
dealings,  he  won  the  esteem  of  tradesmen  and  civilians  ;  frank,  graceful  and 
easy  in  his  bearing,  manly  and  magnificent  in  figure,  handsome  in  feature 
mnsical  in  voice,  richly  stored  in  mind,  piquant  and  seductive  in  conversa- 


OF    MAKIOM    AND    Ills    MERRY    MEN.  123 

tion,  he  almost  invariably  succeeded  in  winning  the  admiration  and  very  fre- 
quently the  honor  of  the  gentler  sex.  His  reputation  for  gallantry  in  the 
boudoir,  was  co-extensive  with  his  military  fame  ;  and  hence  the  turn-out 
by  both  sexes  to  witness  the  entrance  of  one  of  whom  all  had  heard  so  much 
was  both  flattering  and  large. 

Tarleton,  however,  was  too  accustomed  to  demonstrations  of  this  charsw- 
ter  to  permit  it  to  engross  him.  He  received  the  flatteries  and  attention*  of 
the  tories,  as  they  turned  out  to  welcome  him,  with  the  smiling  self-posses- 
sion and  easy  deference  peculiar  to  men  of  the  world. 

He  drove  up  to  the  Palmetto,  where,  after  a  hurried  whisper  to  one  of  his 
lieutenants  relative  to  the  disposition  of  his  troops,  he  alighted,  to  receive  in 
due  form  the  leading  officials  and  inhabitants ;  after  which,  accompanied  by 
Richard  Winter  and  some  three  or  four  officers,  he  retired  to  private  apart- 
ments, from  which,  some  hours  afterward,  he  despatched  invitations  to  the 
leading  families  of  Kingstree  and  its  environs  to  a  ball  he  proposed  giving  on 
the  evening  of  the  following  day. 

Richard  Winter  did  not  reach  home  till  long  after  midnight.  His  father 
and  sister  had  retired  some  hours  before.  He  had,  therefore,  much  to  his 
mortification,  no  opportunity  of  laying  before  them  either  the  invitation  he 
bore,  or  his  plans  and  wishes  relative  to  the  ball. 

Still  pondering  upon  this  subject,  he  threw  himself  into  bed,  where,  agita- 
ted by  his  thoughts,  he  tossed  restlessly  till  daybreak,  when  he  at  length 
fell  into  a  deep  but  unquiet  sleep. 

It  was  noon  when  he  awoke ;  his  nerves  were  disordered,  his  temper  harsh 
and  petulent,  and  his  features  pale  and  haggard. 

He  descended  to  the  breakfast  room,  and  found  Amy  and  a  domestic  im- 
patiently awaiting  him.  He  partook  of  the  meal  in  surly  silence.  When  he 
tad  finished,  he  bade  Amy  follow  him,  and  led  the  way  to  the  drawing  room, 
where  he  found  his  father,  in  all  the  dignity  of  full  dress,  impatiently  await- 
ing the  arrival  of  Colonel  Tarleton. 

Mr.  Winter  was  both  pained  and  surprised  at  Richard's  pale  and  nervous 
appearance,  but  made  no  observations  upon  the  subject ;  for,  if  the  truth 
must  be  told,  the  old  gentleman  both  understood  and  feared  the  irritable  dis- 
position of  his  son,  and  felt  no  desire  to  incur  the  risk  of  drawing  it  from  ita 
critical  repose. 

"You  are  unusually  attentive  to  your  appearance  this  morning,  sir!"  said 
Richard,  in  surprise. 

"  Not  more  than  the  occasion  demands.  I  believe."  returned  Mr.  Winter, 
blandly. 

"  What  occasion  do  you  allude  to?"  asked  Richard. 

"Have  you  not  heard  of  it  ?"  replied  the  old  gentleman,  with  an  air  of  as- 
tonishment "  I  should  have  supposed  that  you,  above  all  others,  would 
have  known  it — you  who  entered  Kingstree  in  familiar  converse  with  him. 
Has  not  Colclkl  Tarleton—" 

"  Oh,  youTFheard  of  that,  sir  ?"  said  Richard,  interrupting  him  while  an 
.air  of  pride  hovered  round  his  haughty  lips.  "  He  gives  a  ball  to  night  at  the 
town  hall.  You  and  Amy  are  invited." 

"Ah!"  murmured  Mr.  Winter  to  himself,  "he  gives  a  ball  to-night,  and 
invites  me !  That  accounts  for  his  not  keeping  his  promise  to  call  on  me  this 
morning.  I  thought  it  was  very  odd." 

"  Colonel  Tarleton,"  continued  Richard,  glancing  at  his  sister,  who  was 
pale  and  frightened,  "  has  done  me  the  honor  Kb  take  me  into  his  confi- 
dence, and  at  my  request,  given  me  a  roving  commission  to  punish  the 
enemies  of  the  king  wherever  I  shall  find  them.  I  need  not  say,  he  added, 
drawing  himself  np  sternly,  "that  he  is  thenceforth  entitled  to  receive  from 
me  and  mine  the  highest  consideration  and  reepect" 

Mr. Winter  rubbed  his  hands  gleefully. 


124  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

"Ah!"  he  murmured,  "the  corporal  was  right.  Colonel  Tarleton  is 
grateful;  but  in  truth,  I  did'nfrlook  for  the  proof  of  it  so  soon!" 

'•  The  colonel,"  resumed  Richard,  again  glancing  at  his  sister,  with  an  air 
which  would  not  brook  interruption,  "  is  rich,  noble,  influential,  and — "  he 


distinctly  remembered  by  you,  and  be  careful  to  rule  your  conduct  accord- 
ingly, at  the  ball !"  Then  turning  to  his  father,  who  shrank  from  his  fierce 
glance,  he  added  :  "  And  to  you,  sir,  I  shall  look  to  remind  her  of  what  she 
owes  to  her  family.  I  have  spoken,  and  see  to  it,  both  of  you,  that  my  plans 
for  ennobling  and  enriching  our  family  name,  are  not  thwarted.  Once  be- 
fore, I  sought  to  strengthen  it  by  an  alliance  with  the  Cramptons ;  wo  to 
you,"  he  added,  approaching  the  door,  and  turning  a  fixed,  pitiless  glance 
upon  his  sister,  who  sat  trembling  upon  a  chair  near  the  window,  "  if  by  any 
act  of  yours  I  am  foiled  now !" 

Amy  remained,  for  some  moments  after  his  departure,  like  one  stunned. 
Then  murmuring, 

"This  is  the  essence  of  cruelty!"  she  fell  from  her  chair  in  a  swoon. 

Mr.  Winter,  in  much  distress,  summoned  two  or  three  of  the  domestics, 
assisted  them  in  bearing  Amy  to  her  room,  and  then  bidding  the  women  call 
him  in  case  anything  alarming  should  happen,  descended  to  the  garden  to 
walk  off  his  excitement 

This  exhibition  of  his  determination  to  rule  the  household  was  by  no  means 
new  with  Richard,  and  Mr.  Winter  had  too  long  yielded  to  his  son's  imperi- 
ous spirit  to  dream  of  resisting  it  now. 

"It  is  very  odd!"  he  muttered,  as  he  paced  up  and  down  the  gravelled 
walk,  "  this  change  in  Richard's  temper.  Before  his  mother  died,  which  is 
just  five  years  ago,  he  was  mild  and  generous  as  a  lamb ;  but  since  that  hour 
his  whole  nature  has  undergone  a.  revolution :  he  is  wild,  fierce,  tyrannic  and 
vindictive.  I  cannot  understand  it !  It  is  plain  there  cannot  be  two  rulers 
in  the  house  while  he  is  in  it  He  will  have  his  way,  and  it  won't  do  to  cross 
him.  If  he  would  only  marry  and  settle  down,  I  should  be  happy!" 

He  continued  pacing  the  walk,  with  his  eyes  upon  the  ground  thoughtfully, 
and  then  resumed : 

"But,  after  all,  he. does  everything  for  the  best.  Amy  is  head  ovqpr  heels 
in  love  with  Somers,  who,  though  he  may  be,  and  doubtless  is  a  very  fine 
young  man,  is  still  of  little  or  no  consequence  in  the  matter  of  wealth.  At 
best  he  isn't  worth  over  five  thousand  pounds,  and  what  is  that,"  he  added 
contemptuously,  "  when  matched  with  what  my  daughter  can  show  for  her 
marriage  portion  ?  Richard  understands  these  matters,  and  consequently  it 
was  very  wise  in  him  to  try  to  bring  about  a  match  with  young  Crampton, 
who,  although  he  is,  compared  with  Somers,  a  mere  fool,  is  vet  of  very  re- 
spectable connexions,  who  are  both  able  and  willing  to  set  4pipi  up  like  an 
earl.  Amy  however  does  not  appear  inclined  to  take  up  with  him,  and 
Richard,  cunning  rogue  !  (I  see  his  aim,  now !)  is  determined  to  drive  her  to 
a  decision  between  Tarleton,  who  is  a  stranger  to  her,  and  whom  she  must 
pass  through  the  mortification  of  courting,  and  Crampton,  who  is  an  old  ac- 
quaintance and  has  long  courted  her  !  Cunning  rogue — cunning  rogue ! 
The  idea  is  capital.  I  couldn't  have  devised  a  better  one  myself." 

At  this  moment,  Richard  Winter,  dressed  with  unusual  care,  descended  the 
steps  leading  from  the  house,  and  observing : 

"  I  shall  not  return  till  dark.  See  the  carriage  got  ready,  and  have  every- 
thing prepared  by  eight  o'clock.  The  ball  takes  place  at  nine  !"  He  passed 
out  into  the  road,  and  calmly  proceeded  towards  Kings'tree. 

He  orders  me  as  if  I  were  his  slave  !"  muttered  Mr.  Winter,  looking  after 
mm  with  an  eye  flashing  with  indignant  light.     His  anger  was  merely  mo- 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  125 

mentary,  however.  "  But  lie  means  nothing  by  it,"  he  added,  as  his  passion 
subsided ;  "  it  is  only  his  way !"  As  he  spoke  he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  slow- 
ly ascended  to  the  piazza,  muttering  as  he  threw  himself  upon  a  chair,  "  It  is 
very  singular  he  didn't  say  anything  about  Selim.  Perhaps  the  colonel,  with 
his  usual  delicacy,  advised  him  not  to,  preferring  to  thank  me  himself  in  per- 
son. How  is  your  mistress  ?  Is  she  recovered  ?" 

This  question  was  addressed  to  one  of  the  female  domestics,  who  at  this 
moment  stepped  from  the  hall  upon  the  piazza. 

"  Yes,  massa,"  answered  the  woman,  with  the  lisp  peculiar  to  mulattoes. 
"But  she  very  mis' able,  and  wish  to  see  you.  She  say  she  no  wish  to  go  to 
dis  ball.  Her  heart  be  bery  sad." 

"  Ah !"  murmured  the  old  gentleman  to  himself,  "  I  see.  She  desires  to 
make  an  appeal  to  my  feelings.  I  understand  it ;  but  it  will  not  do.  Richard 
would  kill  me.  Tell  your  mistress,"  he  said  aloud,  with  an  assumption  of 
stern  authority,  "  that  it  is  my  wish  she  should  go." 

"  Yes,  massa,"  said  the  mulatto,  and  a  tear  of  sympathy  for  her  young  mis- 
tress, mounted  to  the  long  lashes  of  her  dark,  expressive  eyes. 

"Tell  her,"  added  Mr.  Winter,  blushing  in  despite  of  himself  at  his  moral 
cowardice,  "  that  I  do  not  wish  to  see  her  till  tea-time,  that  I  do  not  wish 
her  to  speak  one  word  upon  the  matter  then,  and  that  I  shall  expect  her  to 
be  dressed  and  ready  for  the  ball  precisely  at  eight  o'clock  Now  begone, 
And  see  that  neither  you  nor  any  else  disturb  me  again  in  the  midst  of  my 
meditations !  Begone !" 

"  Yes,  massa!"  The  girl  dropped  him  a  curtesy,  and,  with  trembling  steps, 
hastened  from  the  piazza.  Ascending  to  the  chamber  of  Amy,  she  tearfully 
delivered  word  for  word  the  message  of  her  master. 

"  Tell  me,  Nelly,"  said  Amy,  to  her  faithful  and  attached  waiting-woman, 
"  was  there  no — no  appearance  of  sympathy  in  his  voice,  or  in  his  eye,  as  he 
spoke  ?" 

"  None,"  replied  Nelly,  indignantly ;  "  and  more  shame  for  him  to  use  you 
so,  my  missee.  He  no  man !  Ugh !  how  I  would  like  to  tear  him  eyes  out  1 
He  show  no  more  heart  than  a  tiger !" 

"  Then  God  help  me!"  cried  Amy,  with  a  burst  of  deep  distress,  "for  I  am 
friendless.  My  last  hope  is  gone !" 

"  Oh,  say  not  so,  missee  !"  said  Nelly,  consolingly.  "  Neber  gib  up.  Who 
knows  what  may  come  up  ?  Perhaps  handsome  massa  Somers  be  at  de  balL 
Who  knows  ?" 

And  the  faithful  creature  used  every  art  to  comfort  her  distressed  mistress, 
but  without  avail.  Amy's  heart  had  received  a  bruise  which  time  and  kind- 
ness alone  could  heal :  and  she  spent  the  day  in  tears. 

Colonel  Tarleton  was  lavish  in  his  orders,  and  equally  as  liberal  with  his 
money,  and  the  large  hall  and  ante-chambers  of  the  town  house  were  fitted 
up  in  a  styWpf  great  magnificence.  The  company  began  to  arrive  about 
nine  o'cloo^Mid  at  ten  the  ball  room  was  crowded  with  the  wealth  and 
beauty  of  ^Hgstree  and  its  neighborhood.  The  accommodations  for  the 
guests  were  on  an  extensive  scale,  the  music  was  inspiring  and  of  a  better 
character  than  usually  appeared  in  the  town,  and  as  everything  displayed  a 
considerate  and  liberal  hand,  there  was  everything  to  call  forth  enthusiastic 
encomiums,  but  nothing  to  pin  a  murmur  on. 

Tarleton  did  his  best  to  make  everybody  happy  and  at  ease,  and  succeeded 
by  appearing  himself  so.  He  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  brilliant  regimentals, 
which  set  off  his  naturally  commanding  person  to  still  greater  advantage,  and 
forced  the  admission  from  every,  however  unwilling,  lip,  that  his  was  the 
finest  figure,  his  the  most  elegant  appearance,  in  the  room. 

The  only  individual  present  who  could  at  all  compete  with  him  in  these 
respects,  was  our  old  acquaintance  Frederick  Crampton,  whose  mother  in- 
deoi  whispered  to  her  husband  that  so  far  as  actual  taste,  grace,  beauty  and 


"[26  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

worth  went,  Frederick  was  by  far  the  most  preferable  man  of  the  two.  An 
opinion  which  Mr.  Crampton  the  elder,  being  a  man  of  considerable  sound 
sense,  and  as  such  averse  to  libertines  no  matter  what  their  standing,  both  si- 
lently and  audibly  endorsed ! 

In  dancing,  there  was  no  comparison  between  the  exquisite  and  the  roue. 
The  former  was  all  grace  and  beauty,  the  latter  very  far  from  either.  Cramp- 
ton  moved  over  the  floor  without  an  effort,  like  one  to  whom  it  was  an  en- 
joyment ;  Tarleton's  steps  were  visibly  heavy,  and  taken  with  a  certain  degree 
of  awkwardness  and  exertion.  By  general  consent  the  exquisite  was  per- 
mitted in  this  particular  to  outshine  his  rival. 

Of  the  ladies,  the  wealthy  widow,  Mrs.  Brunton,  was  the  most  brilliant,  if 
not  the  most  lovely  star  of  the  night.  Her  appearance  was  at  once  queenly, 
elegant  and  voluptuous,  and  elicited  as  much  admiration  from  the  masculine 
portion  of  the  guests,  as  it  called  up  envy  in  the  hearts  of  her  own  sex. 

She  was  literally  set  in  purple,  pearls  and  gold.  She  wore  a  tight  fitting 
velvet  bodice  and  flowing  skirt  of  a  rich,  glossy  purple,  the  neck  and  sleeves 
edged  with  fine  pointed  Brussells  lace ;  a  necklace  of  large  plumb-shaped 
pearls,  set  in  gold,  ornamented  her  ivory  neck ;  her  small  beautifully  chisel- 
led hands  were  encased  in  gloves  of  a  rich  flesh-colored  silk,  edged  at  their 
tops,  like  her  neck,  with  pointed  Brussells ;  her  wrists  were  encircled  by 
bracelets  of  diamond-shaped  pearls  tastily  inlaid  in  beds  of  gold  ;  around  her 
voluptuous  waist  hung  a  deep  zone  of  large,  glittering,  spindle-formed  pearls, 
set  in  hollow  cradles  of  polished  gold ;  from  the  lower  edge  of  this  gorgeous 
belt,  running  over,  and  descending  her  superbly  rounded  hips,  to  the  depth 
of  some  nine  or  twelve  inches,  and  completely  encircling  her  form,  depended 
what  might  be  termed  a  waist  tunic,  composed  exclusively  of  light,  tissuey 
threads  of  the  finest  and  glossiest  silk,  edged  with  a  running  series  of  large, 
glistening  plumb-shaped  pearls.  Her  small,  fairy  feet  as  she  moved  through 
the  dance  were  just  sufficiently  visible  to  convince  the  spectators  that  she 
was  as  perfect  in  that  particular  as  storied  Cinderella  herself. 

The  palm  of  loveliness  was  by  general  consent  divided  between  the  charm- 
ing widow  and  the  beautiful  Miss  Winter.  The  latter  was  attired  with  great 
simplicity.  She  wore  merely  a  white,  close-fitting  bodice  and  a  freely  flow- 
ing skirt.  In  her  hair,  which  was  parted  in  the  middle,  combed  back  and 
thrown  over  her  neck  and  shoulders  in  a  perfect  shower  of  ringlets,  she  hung 
for  its  only  ornament,  a  small  scarlet  rose.  Her  fair  brow,  straight,  pensive 
features,  modest  yet  graceful  air,  and  faultless  figure,  stamped  her  th»  truest 
beauty  of  the  two.  To  those  who  watched  her  closely,  there  was  every  now 
and  then  in  her  dreamy,  wandering  eyes  and  lingering  around  her  small  and 
.beautifully  bowed  lips,  a  slight  expression  of  suffering,  not  at  all  in  keeping 
with  the  festive  scene  of  which  she  was  a  participant. 

Of  the  two,  the  widow  achieved  perhaps  the  greatest  number  of  conquests, 
but  Amy  won  the  most  sympathy.  Mrs.  Brunton  was  the  n^t  gorgeous, 
dashing  and  fascinating ;  but  Miss  Winter  was  the  most  lo^p>le,  amiable 
and  interesting.  The  one  was  voluptuously  beautiful,  and  captivated  the 
senses ;  the  other  was  simply,  purely,  faultlessly  lovely,  and  while  slightly 
appealing  to  the  senses,  quietly  carried  off  the  heart.  The  one  reminded 
you  of  some  gorgeous,  voluptuous  queen;  the  other,  of  a  guileless  angel. 

Tarleton  paid  great  attention  to  both,  and  with  his  customary  impudence 
quietly  determined  to  add  their  names  to  the  already  long  list  o%his  victims. 
Well  acquainted  with  the  weaknesses  of  women,  Tarleton  generally  knew  when 
and  where  to  strike,  so  as  to  bring  them  to  his  wishes.  His  previous  suc- 
cesses as  a  libertine  naturally  led  him  to  the  supposition  that  his  usual  good 
fortune  in  this  respect  would  attend  him  in  his  efforts  to  carry  off  the  honor 
of  our  two  lady  friends.  His  reasoning  however  was  not  bad,  judging  by 
matters  as  they  appeared  upon  the  surface. 


OF   MARION    AND   HIS   MERRY    MEN.  127 

"This  widow,"  he  muttered,  "is  a  wild,  dashing,  intriguing  creature,  full 
of  passion,  and  will  therefore  give  me  but  little  trouble." 

Of  the  soundness  of  this  logic,  some  idea  may  be  formed  from  Mrs.  Brun- 
ton's  mental  observation  formed  after  her  second  minuet  with  the  gallant 
colonel. 

.  "  He  is  a  vain,  lively  fellow,  very  fond  of  conquests,  and  flatters  himself  that 
he  could,  by  the  simplest  effort,  lead  me  the  same  ruinous  dance  he  has  already 
led  hundreds  of  my  silly  witted  sex.  The  foolish  puppy !  as  if  he  could  make 
any  impression  upon  a  woman  who  had  ever  known  that  peerless  paragon. 
Neil  Somers !" 

Of  the  widow's  earnestness  in  these  remarks  there  can  be  no  doubt,  since  it 
was  subsequently  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  she  left  orders  with  her  servants 
early  the  following  day  that  she  was  not  "  at  home"  to  Colonel  Tarletpn. 
nor  to  any  one  who  should  accompany  him ;  an  order,  by  the  way,  which 
was  never  rescinded ! 

"As  to  Miss  Winter,"  continued  the  libertine  colonel,  "she  is  not  to  be 
won  so  easily.  She  is  too  pensive,  and  I  never  had  much  success  with  pen- 
sive beauties.  They  think  too  much,  and  have  too  little  passion.  Once  won, 
however,  they  make  the  most  charming  mistresses — for  a  time ;  then  they 
take  to  sulking,  then  ib  moaning,  then  to  eternal  weeping,  prating  stupidly 
in  the  meanwhile  of  their  lost  honor,  the  necessity  of  marriage,  and  all  that 
sort  of  rubbish,  till  one  could  almost  find  it  in  his  heart  to  silence  their 
groaning  forever  by  a  dose  of  poison.  Still  Miss  Winter  would  make  a  be- 
witching mistress  for  a  month  or  two,  and  I  shall  of  course  take  her  in  hand. 
The  sooner  I  make  her  the  temporary  bride  of  my  heart — not  my  hand  by 
any  means,  for  liberty  to  roam  from  flower  to  flower  is  too  sweet — the  better, 
for  I  shall  not  linger  long  in  this  quarter  of  the  country,  and  I  shall  pick  up 
enough  others  elsewhere." 

Amy's  simple  heart  entertained  very  opposite  views  of  the  brilliant  roue. 
"Ah!"  she  murmured,  as  Tarleton,  after  a  brief  conversation,  left  her,  to 
pay  his  court,  for  a  few  moments,  to  the  fascinating  widow.  "  what  a  contrast 
between  this  insipid  libertine  and  the  noble-minded  Somers.  Is  it  possible 
that  a  gross,  superficial  wretch  like  him  can  win  the  heart  of  a  pure-minded 
woman  ?  And  yet  it  is  to  such  a  worthless,  hollow-hearted  being,  Richard 
would  see  me  linked.  0,  rather  than  that,  the  grave !" 

The  libertine's  chances,  then,  with  regard  to  the  dashing  widow  and  the 
modest,  retiring,  pure-hearted  maiden,  were  somewhat  slim. 

Tarleton,  however,  ^vas  every  where ;  and  many  a  quiet  glance  of  the  eye, 
and  many  a  soft,  palmy  pressure  of  the  hand  admonished  him  of  conquests 
he  had  made,  and  of  meetings  yet  in  store.  He  was  in  consequence  in  the 
highest  of  spirits,  and  highly  popular  throughout  the  evening. 

Richard  Winter  succeeded,  about  eleven  o'clock,  in  obtaining  Mrs.  Brunton 
for  his  partner  in  a  minuet,  and  did  his  best  to  make  an  impression  upon  her 
hard  heart,  b^&iled,  as  usual.  She  treated  him  politely,  but  with  consider- 
able coldnessr^The  widow  had  heard,  through  young  Clark,  who  was  one 
of  her  visitors,  of  the  tory's  vindictive  display  against  Somers,  at  the  Palmet- 
to, and  could  scarcely  restrain  her  indignation.  She  made  no  allusion  to  it. 
however,  and  Richard  Winter  was  puzzled  to  account  for  her  hauteur.  Un- 
able to  form  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  matter,  he  imputed  it  to  a  some- 
thing arising  from  the  exquisite,  Crampton,  who,  he  remembered,  had  been 
the  lady's  partner  in  the  previous  set,  as  well  as  in  two  or  three  others  pre- 
ceeding  that.  He  then  reflected  that  the  exquisite  had,  as  he  had  heard, 
been  a  somewhat  constant,  visitor  at  Mrs.  Brunton's  for  the  four  years  that  he, 
by  his  aberration  of  intellect,  had  been  confined  to  his  room.  As  these 
thoughts  crossed  him,  the  brow  of  the  tory  darkened. 

"  Crampton  shall  atone  for  this,"  he  muttered.     "  Is  it  not  enough  that  he 


THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 


visits  my  sister,  but  must  he,  slighting  her,  and  thereby  angering  me,  also 
cross  me  in  my  crusade  against  this  woman  and  her  purse." 

In  an  instant  he  thought  of  Tarleton,  and  his  features  assumed  a  severe 


1  Ho  ho !"  he  muttered,  "has  he  been  tampering  with  this  woman !  Curse 
him!  I  design  Amy  for  his  wife,  and  he  must  not  attempt  an  intrigue  wijh 
another  right  under  my  very  eyes,  while  paying  his  court  to  her." 

His  brow  darkened  still  another  shade,  as  he  reflected,  for  the  first  time, 
seriously,  upon  the  libertine  character  of  the  colonel. 

"  Can  it  be,"  he  murmured,  as  an  uneasy  thought  crossed  him,  "  that  his 
design  is  also  upon  the  ho»or  and  not  on  the  affections  of  Amy  ?  If  so,  let 
him  beware !  There  is  a  devil  slumbering  in  my  breast — and  devils  some- 
times kill." 

As  he  made  this  mental  observation,  he  turned  his  eyes  towards  his  siters, 
who  was  standing  with  the  colonel,  in  another  set,  and  awaiting  her  turn, 
in  the  dance.  Tarleton  was  at  that  moment  making  an  observation  to  his 
fair  partner,  the  effect  of  which  was  to  compel  her  to  drop  her  eyes  and  to 
call  up  a  blush  quick  and  deep  as  crimson. 

It  was,  in  fact,  an  elopement  which  the  gallant  colonel,  who,  with  his  usual 
vanity,  presumed  that  he  had  achieved  a  conquest,  had,  the  impudence  to  pro- 
pose to  her. 

"  What  in  fury  does  that  mean  ?"•  muttered  Richard,  observing  them. 
"  Has  he  dared  to  insult  her  with  a  dishonorable  proposal?" 

Mrs.  Brunton  had  quietly  followed  the  direction  of  her  partner's  eyes,  and 
witnessed  the  little  incident  which  had  ruffled  him.  A  moment  later,  and 
she  whispered  to  him : 

"  Mr.  Winter,  something  disturbs  Amy.  She  blushes,  and  her  eyelids  are 
moist  with  tears.  She  will  fall,  if  she  is  not  attended  to." 

Richard  started  at  these  words  as  if  he  had  been  stung  by  a  basilisk.  They 
were  spoken  in  that  quiet,  satirical  tone  which  implies  that  more  is  concealed 
than  uttered.  Did  Mrs.  Brunton  then  suspect  him  and  his  motives  in  for- 
cing Amy  as  it  were  into  Tarleton's  notice  ?  If  so,  she  must  despise  him. 
In  which  case  his  hopes  of  her  hand  and  wealth  were  at  an  end !  He  shud- 
dered at  the  thought 

"  'Tis  nothing,"  he  said,  in  reply  to  her  interrogating  glance.  "  It  is  one 
of  her  fits.  She  has  them  frequently." 

"  Oh,  indeed !"  said  the  widow,  with  an  icy  sarcasm.  "  I  was  not  aware 
of  that!  Poor  girl!  many  such  'fits'  would  kill  me.  -She  must  have  a  con- 
stitution like  iron !" 

Amy's  position  was  very  distressing.  She  could  make  no  reply  to  the  lib- 
ertine's insulting  proposal  except  to  preserve  an  indignant  silence.  Her  feel- 
ings were  wounded  to  a  degree,  and  yet  she  had  no  one  to  whom  she  could 
confide  her  sorrows  or  look  for  sympathy.  Her  father  and  brother  com- 
pelled her  to  endure  her  unhappy  position  unmurmuring!*'  She  felt  that 
she  was  without  a  friend  in  the  world,  and  hardly  knew,  so  much  was  she  terri- 
fied and  confused  by  the  libertine  insolence  of  her  partner,  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  her  utter  loneliness,  and  the  despotism  of  her  cruel  and  ambitious 
brother,  what  to  think  or  do.  It  was  as  Mrs.  Brunton  expressed  it — she  was 
near  falling. 

The  quiet  sarcasm  of  his  tormenting  companion  in  the  dance,  was  not 
without  its  effect  upon  Richard  Winter.  The  blood  deserted  his  face,  and  a 
yellow  tinge  of  shame  settled  for  a  few  moments  upon  either  cheek 

"You  are  severe,  madam!"  he  said,  making  an  effort  to  excuse  himself. 
"  You  forget  that  Amy  is  unaccustomed  to  scenes  like  this,  and  more  es- 
pecially to  company  like  Colonel  Tarleton's.  The  sphere  in  which  he  is 
accustomed  to  move,  is  so  far  above  that  in  which  she  mingles,  that  his  supe- 
rior convensational  powers  astonish,  and,  perhaps,  humiliate  her.  She  should 


OF    KARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  129 

go  more  into  society,  and  accustom  herself  to  these  things.  At  present,  she 
is  simply  a  green  country  girl,  and  the  manners  of  polished  circles  astonish 
her.  She  will  get  familiar  with  them,  by  and  bye !" 

"You  hope  so,  no  doubt!"  returned  Mrs.  Brunton,  with  an  air  which  no- 
tified her  companion  that  she  wished  the  subject  dropped. 

Midnight  drew  near,  the  intermission  came,  and  the  guests  moved  from 
the  ball  room  to  partake  of  refreshment. 

Frederick  Crampton  had  attended  Mrs.  Brunton  to  the  fete,  and  he  now 
approached  to  conduct  her  to  the  supper  room. 

"  Really,  Mr.  Crampton,"  she  said,  with  an  air  it  was  impossible  to  resist, 
"  I  should  prefer  to  have  you  escort  me  home !" 

"  If  you  weally  desire  it,  certainly !"  replied  the  exquisite,  without  evincing 
any  surprise.  "  May  I  ask,"  he  continued,  while  leading  her  to  the  dressing 
room,  "  the  weason  why  you  have  wesolved  to  depwive  the  company  so  early 
of  the  two  wosiest  cheeks  in  the  woom !" 

"  It  is,"  replied  the  widow,  smiling  at  the  flattery,  "  because  I  wish  to  pre- 
serve those  roses  for  to-morrow !" 

"  You  are  a  chawming  cweature !''  observed  the  exquisite,  with  a  graceful 
bow,  as  Mrs.  Brunton  glided  from  his  arm  into  the  dressing  room.  "  I  could 
almost  love  her!"  he  murmured,  moving  off  to  prepare  himself  for  de- 
parture. 

Richard  Winter,  with  Amy  upon  his  arm,  had  already  retired  to  the  sup- 
per room,  whither  the  remaining  guests  were  now  slowly  and  quietly  mov- 
ing. 

Mr.  Winter  had,  early  in  the  evening,  been  presented  to  Colonel  Tarleton ; 
but  it  was  at  a  moment  when  that  personage  was  surrounded  by  a  number 
of  his  officers,  and  other  friends,  whose  presence  precluded  the  possibility  of 
an  exchange  of  even  a  few  words.  From  that  period  to  that  of  the  intermis- 
sion, Mr.  Winter  had  been  making  the  most  strenuous  efforts  to  catch  the 
colonel's  eye,  but  without  effect.  The  latter  was  so  deeply  occupied  in  at- 
tentions to  the  fairer  portion  of  the  company,  and  in  responding  to  formal 
introductions  to  the  other,  that  the  old  gentleman  had  been  unable  to  obtain 
even  a  passing  recognition. 

Determined,  however,  upon  gaining  his  point,  that  is  to  say,  an  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  reception  of  the  matchless  Selim,  Mr.  Winter,  as  the  intermis- 
sion drew  near,  planted  himself  at  the  door  leading  to  the  supper  room,  for 
the  purpose  of  catching  Colonel  Tarleton  by  the  button  as  he  passed  from  the 
hall. 

The  old  gentleman's  patience  was  not  tasked  long.  Ere  he  had  taken  up 
his  position  at  the  door  five  minutes,  Colonel  Tarleton  approached,  followed 
by  a  number  of.  friends. 

As  he  neared  the  supper  room,  Colonel  Tarleton  observed  a  spruce,  old 
gentleman,  standing  in  the  doorway,  and  eyeing  him  with  a  peculiar  expres- 
sion. 

"  You  wish  to  speak  to  me,  sir  ?"  he  said,  with  a  gracious  air. 

"  Yes,  sir — Colonel  Tarleton,  I  mean — "  returned  Mr.  Winter,  confusedly 
delighted  at  the  success  thus  far  of  his  little  scheme,  and  bowing  almost  to 
the  floor.  "  A  momentary  favor,  colonel,  if  you  please." 

"  Well,  sir  ?"  said  Tarleton,  inquiringly. 

"  I  wish  to  know,  my  dear  colonel,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  blushing  with 
rapture  at  the  honor  of  conversing  with  so  illustrious  a  personage  as  the  man 
before  him,  "  how  you  like  Selim  ?" 

"Selim,  sir?''  returned  Tarleton,  in  surprise.  "What  do  you  mean, 
sir?" 

Mr.  Winter  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh,  I  see.  The  corporal  forgot  to  tell  you  his  name !  That  was  very 
wrong  of  him!" 

17 


130  THE    SWAMP   STEED  ]    OR    THE    DAYS 

"The  corporal,  sir?  What  corporal  ?"  demanded  Tarleton,  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"  Corporal  Doem,"  replied  the  old  gentleman,  expecting  the  mention  of 
that  name  would  recall  to  Colonel  Tarleton  a'sense  of  his  meaning. 

"  Corporal  Doem !"  repeated  Tarleton,  indignantly,  "  What  do  you  mean  ? 
Do  you  wish  to  insult  me  ?  Explain  yourself!  Who  are  you,  sir  ?"  And 
without  giving  him  time  to  reply,  the  colonel  turned  to  his  companions,  and 
added :  Do  you  know  this  old  gentleman,  sirs  !  Who  is  he  ? 

"'Tis  Mr.  Winter,"  they  replied,  in  a  breath. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  old  gentleman  himself,  hoping  his  name  would,  at  all 
events,  set  the  affair  in  its  true  light  before  the  colonel,  "  I  am  Mr.  Winter, 
colonel ;  the  gentleman  who  yesterday  had  the  honor  of  sending  for  your 
acceptance  the  finest  horse  in  the  province!" 

"  You  did  what,  sir  ?"  said  Tarleton,  eyeing  him  as  though  he  supposed  he 
had  taken  leave  of  his  senses. 

Mr.  Winter  repeated  his  statement. 

Tarleton  surveyed  him  for  a  few  moments,  in  silence,  and  then  said,  signi- 
ficantly : 

"  I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Winter,  that  either  too  much  wine  or  late  hours,  I  can- 
not say  which,  do  not  agree  with  you.  Please  to  stand  aside,  sir,"  he  added, 
somewhat  sternly,  "  the  guests  are  desirous  of  passing,  and  you  are  in  their 
way !" 

Mr.  Winter's  hair  uprose  in  terror.  A  horrible  suspicion  took  possession 
of  his  mind. 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  say,  Colonel  Tarleton,"  he  exclaimed,  moving  from 
the  doorway,  "that  you  have  not  received  my  princely  horse — my  Selim?" 

"  I  do  mean  to  say  so,  sir,"  returned  the  colonel,  surveying  him  with  a 
cold,  supercilious  stare. 

'  Nor  my  gorgeous  crimson  saddle  ?" 

'No  more  than  the  horse  !"  said  the  colonel,  derisively. 

'  Nor  the  morrocco  holsters,  edged  with  silver  ?"  continued  Mr.  Winter, 
his  features  growing  wilder,  and  his  voice  huskier  with  each  question. 

'  No  more  than  the  saddle !"  . 

'  Nor  my  silver  mounted  pistols  ?" 

'No  more  than  the  holsters!" 

The  countenance  of  Mr.  Winter  was  now  an  index  of  the  most  ludicrous 
despair. 

"  And  you  don't  know  the  corporal — Corporal  Doem  ?"  he  added,  trem- 
bling with  terror. 

"  I  only  know,"  replied  Tarleton,  surveying  him  contemptuously,  "  that 
you  are  either  drunk  or  crazy,  and  that  your  best  friend  would  be  a  straight 
jacket !" 

With  these  words,  the  colonel,  followed  by  his  companions,  passed  laugh- 
ingly through  the  door  of  the  supper  room,  leaving  the  old  gentleman  per- 
fectly stupified. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  hasten  from  the  ball 
room,  jump  into  his  carriage,  and  order  his  coachmen  to  drive  home.  He 
ascended  to  his  chamber  with  trembling  steps,  and  threw  himself  wildly  upon 
his  bed,  cursing  his  folly  and  breathing  vengeance  most  dire  upon  Corporal 
Doem. 

Meanwhile  all  was  mirth  and  excitement  at  the  town  house.  Tarleton 
and  his  companions  jested  and  laughed  over  the  corporal's  exploit  and  his 
victim's  discomfiture.  The  joke  spread  from  table  to  table  with  great  rapidi- 
ty ;  from  the  supper  room  it  extended  to  the  ball  room,  from  the  ball  room 
to  the  dressing  rooms,  from  thence  to  the  loungers  about  the  door,  from 
them  to  the  stragglers  in  the  street,  and  from  these  to  the  Palmetto. 

Richard  Winter's  surprise  and  mortification,  upon  hearing  it,  were  indes- 


OP    MARION    AND    HIS   MERRY    MEN.  13] 

cribable.  He  could  scarcely  restrain  himself  from  instantly  rising  and  hur 
rying  from  the  scene.  Bending  over  the  table  at  which  they  were  sitting, 
lie  demanded  of  his  sister  if  the  story  was  correct 

"I  know  nothing  to  the  contrary,"  replied  Amy,  with  a  deep  blush.  i;A 
man,  in  the  dress  of  an  officer,  called  yesterday  upon  'pa ;  stated  that  he  had 
been  sent  with  a  commission  from  Colonel  Tarleton.  though  what  it  was  I 
do  not  know,  for  I  retired  to  my  room  on  his  arrival ;  on  his  departure, 
however,  he  certainly  did  go  away  on  Selim's  back,  and  wrapped,  for  it  was 
raining,  in  papa's  top  coat  I  saw  him  from  my  window." 

"  Did  father  say  anything  to  you  about  it,  after  the  fellow  had  gone  ?"' 
asked  Richard. 

"  Not  a  word,"  replied  Amy. 

Richard  bit  his  lips  and  bent  over  his  plate  to  coqceal  his  annoyance.  His 
first  impulse  was  to  re  turn  immediately  to- the  ball  room,  seek  his  father,  and  de- 
mand an  explanation ;  but  as  such  a  course  would  have  the  effect  of  drawing 
all  eyes  upon  him,  he  determined  to  remain  where  he  was,  till  the  compa- 
ny arose  and  made  a  general  movement  to  retire  from  the  room,  when  he 
would  mingle  with  the  throng,  and  thus  avoid  exposing  himself  to  observa- 
tion and  remark. 

About  one  o'clock,  the  musicians  returned  to  the  orchestra,  and  a  moment 
later  struck  up  a  march  to  warn  the  company  that  the  dance  was  about  to- 
be  resumed. 

As  the  guests  moved  slowly  from  the  supper  room,  Richard  Winter,  with- 
his  sister  upon  his  arm,  mingled  among  them,  and  on  entering  the  hall,  pro- 
ceeded with.  Amy  at  once  to  the  ladies'  dressing  room,  at  the  door  of  which, 
he  left  her,  bidding  her  prepare  for  an  immediate  departure. 

Not  a  word  was  exchanged  between  them  on  their  journey  home ;  on 
reaching  which,  Richard  foaming  with  mortification  and  rage,  darted  up  the 
staircase,  threw  open  the  door  of  a  small  chamber,  and  the  next  instant,  pale 
and  trembling  with  passion,  he  stood  face  to  face  with  his  father. 

The  latter,  with  his  usual  weakness,  gave  way  before  the  impetuous  man- 
ner of  his  son. 

"  Do  you  know,  sir,"  said  Richard,  fiercely,  "  that  your  folly  has  made  us 
the  laughing  stock  of  Kingstree  ?" 

"  I  cannot  help  it,  Richard,"  answered  Mr.  Winter,  whiningly.  "  I  cannot 
help  it.  I  did  it  all  for  the  best"- 

"  For  the  best?  0  yes, 'doubtless !"  said  Richard,  with  an  air  of  mockery. 
"  Come,  sir,  sit  down,  and  explain  this  affair.  I  wish  to  understand  it  in  all 
its  details. 

His  father  complied,  relating  with  great  succinctness  the  whole  of  his  in- 
terview and  its  results  with  the  self-styled  Corporal  Doem,  and  concluded  by 
repeating  word  for  word  his  colloquy  with  Colonel  Tarleton. 

a  So,  sir,"  said  Richard,  as  he  finished,  "  with  all  your  boasted  sagacity 
and  experience,  you  were  not  sharp  enough  to  detect  the  transparent  trick 
of  this  rebel  rogue.  And  you  did  it  all  for  the  best,  too ;  poor,  snivelling  old 
dotard  !  In  future,  look  to  your  own  affairs,  and  let  my  advancement  alone. 
I'll  look  to  that,  and  see  that  I  get  it,  without  help  from  a  miserable  old 
driveller  like  you  1" 

"  Richard — Richard !"  cried  his  father,  lifting  up  his  cla«ped  hands,  with  an 
imploring  air,  ':  don't  talk  to  me  in  that  way— don't,  you'll  break  my  heart" 

"  Your  heart  ?"  returned  Richard,  with  an  expression  of  mockery.  "  Harre 
you  such  a  thing  ?  If  so,  let  it  feel  for  me." 

"  For  you,  Richard,  my  son  ?" 

"Forme!"  repeated  the  young  man,  impetuously;  "  for  me,  whom  you 
have  shamed  by  your  this  night's  folly;  for  me,  whose  plans  you  have 
thwarted  and  covered  with  ridicule  You  were  aware  of  my  design  upon 
Tarieton.  You  knew  I  took  Amy  to  the  ball  that  her  surpassing  beauty 


132  THE    SWAMP    STEED  |    OR    THE    DAYS 

might  infatuate  and  subsequently  beguile  him  into  a  marriage.  You  were 
conscious  of  my  motive,  sensible  of  the  art  and  delicacy  necessary  all  around, 
in  order  to  bring  it  about ;  and  yet,  in  the  earliest  stage,  when  everything 
was  progressing  swimmingly,  your  small  vanity  must  imbue  you  with  an 
insane  desire  to  be  noticed,  and  prompt  you  to  a  needless  and  unnecessa- 
ry display  of  your  stupidity.  Aye,  bow  your  head,  hoary  headed  driveller," 
he  added,  as  his  father  bent  forward  on  his  chair,  and  resting  his  elbows  on 
his  knees,  covered  his  eyee  with  his  hands,  "  and  groan  over  your  folly !" 

Tlie  old  man  could  endure  these  insulting  reproaches  no  longer.  Dropping 
Ms  hands  from  before  his  eyes,  which  were  moist  with  tears,  he  rose  to  his 
feet,  and  advancing  towards  the  young  man,  said,  sternly — 

"  No  more  of  this  language,  sir.  I've  endured  it  too  long.  I  am  your 
father,  but  I  am  not  your' dog;  and  you  shall  not  treat  me  as  such !" 

"  Shall  not  ?"  returned  Richard,  sneeringly. 

"  SHALL  not !"  thundered  Mr. Winter,  with  a  firmness  that  made  the  young 
man  tremble.  "  Your  despotic  reign  is  over.  You  have  ruled  me  and  my 
house  with  an  iron  hand ;  forgetting,  in  your  unbridled  insolence,  that  /  was 
its  owner,  and  your  father.  I  yielded  to  it,  because,  for  all  your  faults,  I 
loved  you,  and  because  you  were  my  son !" 

The  sneer,  which  had  disappeared  from  Richard's  eye  and  lip  at  the  be- 
ginning of  this  speech,  now  returned,  with  increased  force  and  expression. 

"  Ah !" he  said,  satirically,  "  '  because  I  was  your  son?'  You  yielded  to  me 
for  that ;  for  that,  '  with  all  my  faults,  you  loved  me  ?'  " 

The  old  man  surveyed  him,  for;  a  few  moments,  with  astonishment,  then 
with  horror,  and  lastly  with  despair. 

"  Devil !"  he  said,  trembling  with  rage,  "  what  mean  you  by  that  sneer? 
Are  you  so  utterly  lost  to  shame,  as  to  impugn  the  honor  of  your  dead  mo- 
ther ?  Wretch — devil — answer  me !  Nay,"  he  added,  hastily,  throwing  up 
his  hand  and  fleeing  from  him,  as  Richard  was  about  to  speak,  "  nay,  answer 
not !  I  would  not  hear  your  ingrate  heart  pour  forth  its  black  venom  in  my 
aged  ear !  Gro — fly — get  from  me.  Leave  my  presence.  You  are  a  demon 
in  the  disguise  of  him  who  was  once  my  son.  Go — I  would  not  look  upon, 
I  would  not  hear  you !  You  have  dared  to  cast  a  doubt  upon  the  virtue  of 
my  departed  wife,  upon  her  who  bore  you.  Your  demon  eye  appals  me — 
go,  ingrate,  go!"  » 

The  young  man  eyed  him  calmly ;  the  dark,  implying  sneer  still  glistening 
in  his  orbs,  still  darkening  his  lip. 

It  was  as  his  father  expressed  it.  His  appearance  was  that  of  a  cool,  cal- 
culating, remorseless  demon. 

"  You  will  not  hear  me  ?"  he  said  tranquilly,  without  removing  his  gaze 
for  an  instant  from  off  his  father.  "  You  will  not  hear  me  ?  That  «is  one  of 
your  follies.  You  will  not  only  hear  me,  but  you  shall  feel  me  !  You  say 
my  reign  is  over.  I  answer,  it  is  but  just  begun.  You  charge  me  with  ru- 
ling you  and  the  house  with  a  hand  of  iron.  That  is  another  of  your  drivel- 
ling absurdities.  I  have  dealt  with  you  mildly,  compared  with  what  I  shall 
deal  with  you  henceforth,  unless  you  are  more  tractable.  Instead  of  ruling 
you  with  an  iron  hand,  I  shall  sway  you  with  one  of  steel.  If  I  am  insolent, 
'tis  you  who,  by  encouraging  the  waywardness  of  my  youth,  have  made  me 
so,  and  'tis  you  who  shall  answer  it  I  have  cast  no  imputation  upon  my 
mother's  memory,  and  you — do  you  hear  it,  dotard  ? — you  must  not  tell  me 
so>  As  to  this  house,  I  am  its  master  and  yours,  and  I  shall  continue  so,  so 
long  as  we  both  shall  live.  And  so,  good  sight !" 

With  these  words,  he  moved  slowly,  haughtily,  and  defiantly  to  the  door, 
keeping  his  eyes  fixed  on  those  of  his  father,  whom  they  appeared  to  fasci- 
nate, by  seme  mysterious  power,  to  the  last. 

:  I  am  conquered !"  murmured  the  old  man,  as  Richard  disappeared. 
"  While  his  mother  lived,  I  was  wife-ridden :  she  is  dead,  and  I  am  son-rid- 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  133 

den.  Oh,  heaven !"  he  exclaimed,  placing  both  hands  upon  his  temples, 
which  were  throbbing  fiercely,  "my  brain  will  burst!" 

He  rose,  fastened  the  door,  and  paced  the  chamber,  uneasily.  His  steps 
were  quick  and  nervous. 

"  And  this,"  he  muttered,  tears  starting  from  his  eyes  and  coursing  down 
his  cheeks,  "  this  is  the  result  of  all  my  hopes ;  my  anxieties  and  cares — this, 

0  God !  this .'     Who  would  be  a  father !" 

His  feelings  overpowered  him ;  he  staggered  to  a  chair,  dropped  upon  it, 
buried  his  head  in  his  hands,  and  sobbed.  The  tears  that  bedewed  his  cheeks 
were  hot  and  scalding. 

"  For  this,"  he  groaned,  "  I  have  toiled,  worried  and  fumed ;  for  this  I  pet- 
ted, spoiled,  and  made  him,  from  his  earliest  days  till  now,  the  favorite  child ; 
for  this,  that  she  might  treat  him  kindly,  she  who  never  seemed  to  love  him, 

1  bore  the  ruling  spirit  of  his  mother  without  a  murmur ;  for  this,  I  have 
taken  advantage  of  men's  necessities,  and  steeled  my  heart  against  the  cries 
of  woe,  of  pity,  of  humanity,  that  my  coffers  might  never  be  empty  to  him ; 
for  this,  that  none  other  should  divide  my  affections  or  the  rule  of  the  house 
with  him,  I  have,  .since  his  mother's  death,  remained  without  a  companion ; 
for  this,  I  have  stood  up  for  him,  in  defiance  of  the  light  of  my  better  reason, 
against  complaining  friends  and  neighbors,  when  they  found  him  meddlesome, 
insolent  and  vindictive ;  for  this,  mine  eyes  have  ached  with  watching,  mine 
ears  wearied  with  hearkening,  through  the  long,  lone  nights,  when  riot  and 
debauchery  detained  him  abroad ;  for  this,  I  have  cut  off  my  daughter — my 
gentle,  suffering,  unassuming  Amy — from  all  interest  in  my  heart,  that  none 
but  this  bad,  undeserving  boy  might  engross  my  affections — for  this,  I  have 
made  my  daughter  nothing,  myself  nothing,  that  he  might  be  all  in  all !     For 
this— Great  God!  for  UiisT 

Hot  tears  trickled  down  his  cheeks  and  through  his  fingers ;  his  parental 
heart  shook  with  agony ;  his  thin,  silver-tinted  locks  hung  in  streaks  over 
temples  throbbing  as  if  they  would  burst;  his  lean  frame  quivered  with 
emotion. 

He  rose,  after  a  time,  groped  his  way  to  bed,  fell  into  a  dreamy  slumber, 
and,  the  vision  of  his  ungrateful  son  still  haunting  him,  tossed  and  sobbed  tifl 
morning. 

Ah !  bitterly  did  he  realize  the  sentence :  '  Sharper  far  than  a  serpent's 
tooth  to  a  parent's  heart  is  the  ingratitude  of  a  child.' 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

RICHARD  WINTER'S  was  an  organization  which,  as  the  reader  has  already 
observed,  repelled  the  bare  idea  of  defeat.  Once  resolved,  he  allowed  noth- 
ing to  step  between  him  and  the  fulfilment  of  his  purpose.  Though  deeply- 
mortified  at  the  ludicrous  scene  between  his  father  and  colonel  Tarletou, 
he  was  not  inclined  to  permit  it  to  interfere  for  an  instant  with  the  relations 
existing  between  the  colonel  and  himself. 

Early  on  the  morning  after  the  ball,  he  rode  into  Kingstree,  gave  his  horse 
in  care  of  the  ostler,  and  entered  the  Palmetto.  Colonel  Tarleton  had  not 
yet  risen,  and  it  was  thought  he  would  not  make  his  appearance  till  noon. 

The  British  troops,  quartered  upon  the  people,  were  already  assembled 
upon  the  green,  and  discussing  the  incidents  of  the  ball,  which  formed  the 
principal  topic  of  conversation. 

The  town  was  literally  alive  with  idlers,  groups  of  whom  might  be  seen  at 
almost  every  point,  conversing  upon  the  numberless  nothings  which  the  arri- 
val and  appearance  of  the  regulars  suggested  to  their  generally  unoccupied 


134  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ]    OR   THE    DAYS 

minds.  The  multitude  of  these  around  the  Palmetto,  as  the  head-quarters  of 
the  British  officers,  was  very  large ;  while  within  the  bar  room,  their  number 
was  far  from  insignificant. 

A  group  of  officers  held  possession  of  one  corner,  one  of  whom,  a  lieute- 
nant Bascomb,  rose,  as  Eichard  Winter  entered,  and  taking  him  aside,  whis- 
pered confidentially : 

"  My  dear  Winter,  I  have  a  message  for  you  from  colonel  Tarleton." 
"  Ah !     What  is  it  ?"  asked  Richard. 

"  The  colonel,"  said  Bascomb,  "  desires  me  to  request  you  to  tender  his 
regards  to  your  father,  whom  he  wishes  to  overlook  the  trifling  contretemps 
which  transpired  last  evening,  to  receive  his  humblest  apologies  for  the  part 
te  took  in  it,  and  to  forget  that  it  ever  occurred.  As  for  yourself,  he  wishes 
to  see  you  as  soon  as  he  rises  relative  to  some  commission,  the  character  of 
which  he  did  not  explain  to  me.  He  desired  me  also  to  state  to  you  his  re- 
,  grets  for  his  share  in  the  occurrence  at  the  ball,  with  the  request  that  you 
would  make  no  allusion  to  it  when  you  present  yourself  before  him." 

"  Colonel  Tarleton's  wishes  shall  be  respected  by  me  in  every  particular," 
returned  Richard,  inexpressibly  rejoiced  at  this  turn  of  affairs.  "  When  can 
I  have  the  honor  of  an  interview  ?" 

"  At  one  o'clock,"  said  Bascomb.  "By  the  way,  how  are  you  off  for  com- 
panions ?" 

"  In  what  respect  ?" 

"  The  commission  Tarleton  has  in  view  for  you,"  returned  the  lieutenant, 
"  relates,  I  suspect,  to  the  policy  he  designs  to  pursue  with  the  rebels.  If  so, 
you  will  want  friends." 

"I  understand  you,"  said  Richard.  " Colonel  Tarleton  gave  me  yesterday 
a  roving  commission,  with  the  privilege  of  selecting  my  own  men.  His  plan 
is,  I  presume — " 

"Hush!"  said  the  lieutenant,  softly,  "  there  may  be  ears  around-us  other 
than  loyal  ones." 

"Right!"  returned  Richard,  "I  am  too  careless.  In  times  like  these,  and 
in  a  neighborhood  like  this,  there  is  no  telling  whom  to  count  on.  I'll  see 
you  again!" 

"  Do  so!"  said  the  lieutenant,  upon  whose  features  flitted  a  peculiar  smile 
as  Winter  passed  from  the  inn. 

"Well,  Bascomb,"  said  one  of  his  companions,  as  the  lieutenant  resumed 
his  seat  at  the  table,  "  does  he  nibble  ?" 

"Like  a  gudgeon,"  replied  the  lieutenant,  with  a  quiet  smile.  "Father 
and  son  are  equally  gullible.  The  one  is  caught  by  a  rebel  corporal,  the 
other  by  a  loyal  colonel." 

"  And  with  the  same  bait — flattery  !"  laughed  a  third. 

"  And  promises,"  added  a  fourth.     "  We'll  have  to  re-christen  "em." 

"  I  did  that  last  night  at  the  supper,"  said  the  lieutenant. 

"You  only  acted  as  nomenclator  to  the  old  one,"  said  the  last  speaker. 

"Nonsense!  Griswold,"  returned  the  lieutenant.  "It  is  easily  seen  that 
if  I  hadn't  started  it,  nobody  else  would  have  thought  of  it.  I'll  wager  wine 
for  the  regiment  the  colonel  himself  couldn't  have  given  the  old  codger  a  bet- 
:ter  sobriqmt." 

"  A  very  safe  bet,"  observed  Q-riswold,  "  since  it  would  never  be  decided. 
But,  attention,  gentlemen,  for  the  christening.' ' 

"Bear  in  mind,  sir,"  added  the  lieutenant,  with  assumed  seriousness,  "  that 
I  did  that  last  evening." 

4i  Aye?"  said  Griswold,  inquiringly.  "  What  was  it  you  denominated  the 
•old(  gentleman?" 

"'The  Antiquated  Q-udgeon,'"  returned  the  lieutenant,  and  a  low  laugh 
went  up  from  around  the  table.  "  And  I  now  propose,"  he  added,  in  the 


OF    MARION    A.VD    HIS    MERRY    MEN  135 

same  strain,  "  by  way  of  heading  off  this  aspiring  usurper  of  my  laurels,  to 
immortalize  the  young  one  with  the  adhering  title  of  The  Young  Gudgeon." 

"  Lester,"  said  Griswold,  turning  to  an  officer  beside  him,  "  you  must  be 
the  ju«!ge  in  this  case."' 

"  I  am  willing,"  returned  Lester,  with  an  assumed  air  of  graciousness,  "  to 
take  upon  myself  the  duties  of  that  high  and  responsible  position,  if  it  be  the 
wish  of  the  noble  company  present.  What  say  you,  sirs  ?  You  must  an- 
swer individually.  Is  it  your  desire,  lieutenant  Bascomb — yours,  lieutenant 
Ormsby — yours,  sergeant  Stanton — yours,  adjutant  Jones ?  Ah!  it  is?  Very 
well,  then.  I  consent.  Now,  counsellor  Griswold,  propound — my  worship 
is  waiting.  Propound — propound." 

"  My  lud,"  began  Griswold,  "  has  my  enemy,  the  nomenclator  over  the 
way,"  pointing  to  Bascomb  at  the  other  side  of  the  table,  "  the  right  to  anti- 
cipate me — the  right,  my  lud,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  to  take  my  words 
out  of  my  mowth.' 

"  Unquestionably  !"  answered  the  umpire. 

"  He  has  ?" 

"  Unquestionably !"  repeated  the  umpire,  with  ludicrous  gravity. 

"  My  lud,  your  decision  not  only  astonishes,  it  overwhelms  me. ' 

"Very  good,"  observed  the  judge,  phlegmatically. 

"  I  would  add,  my  lud,  that  it  all  but  annihilates  me." 

"  Ah !"  gravely  remarked  the  judge. 

"  But,  I  would  ask  your  ludslup  if  I  have  not  the  right  to  recover  myself 
and  make  myself  good  at  the  expense  of  my  enemy  the  nomenclator  over  the 
way  ?" 

"  Lawfully  ?"  asked  the  judge. 

"  Lawfully,  my  lud." 

"  Unquestionably!"  returned  the  judge  with  marked  gravity. 

"  Then,  my  lud,  I  claim  that  right,  as  well  as  your  power  to  protect  me  in 
it" 

"Take  the  first,  I  promise  you  the  second!"  said  the  judge,  graciously. 

"  Thank  you,  my  noble  lud.  Thus  then  I  recover  myself  at  the  expense  of 
my  enemy  the  nomenclator  over  the  way." 

"Let  us  hear,"  said  the  judge. 

"  My  enemy,  the  nomenclater  over  the  way,"  began  the  other,  has  branded 
the  old  one  with  the  sobriquet  of  the  Antiquated  Gudgeon,  and  flatters  him- 
self with  the  insane  idea  that  it  will  adhere  to  him  forever." 

"  Insane  ideas,"  remarked  the  judge,  with  great  solemnity,  "  are  common 
in  this  court,  as  well  as  in  the  statutes !" 

"Yes, — as  you  say,  my  lud — just  so !  The  Antiquated  Gudgeon  is  good, 
then,  in  the  opinion  of  your  lordship  ?" 

"  Very  good — for  want  of  a  better !"  replied  his  lordship. 

"  Yes,  as  you  say,  my  lud— just  so !— for  want  of  a  better.  I  am  about  to 
produce  the  better  one." 

"  Produce  it,"  said  the  judge,  gravely. 

"  Produce  it !"  said  the  company,  anxiously. 

"  Produce  it !"  said  Bascomb,  with  an  air  of  supercilious  defiance. 

"  Here  it  is,  my  lud.  I  propose  for  your  lordship's  consideration,  the  hap- 
pier title  of  The  Corporal's  Gudgeon ;  for,  if  your  lordship  will  please  to  re- 
member, it  was  the  corporal  who  landed  him." 

"  '  The  Corporal's  Gudgeon,'  is  good,  in  fact  very  good !"  observed  the 
judge,  with  an  air  of  deep  thoughtfulness. 

"Better,  by  far,  than  the  Antiquated  Gudgeon?" 

"  Much  better,"  answered  the  judge ;  "  in  fact,  a  great  deal  better." 

"Your  lordship's  judicial  wisdom,"  said  counsellor  Griswold,  "is  exempli- 
fied in  this  learned  decision,  as  in  everything  else.  I  shall  now  proceed  to 
make  myself  good  at  the  expense  of  my  enemy  the  nomenclator  over  the 


136  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

way,  who  has,  as  he  felicitously  expresses  it,  immortalized  the  young  one 
with  the  adhering  title  of  the  Young  Gudgeon.  Is  '  Young  Gudgeon'  good, 
in  the  opinion  of  your  lordship  ?" 

"  Very  good,/'  decided  his  lordship,  "  for  want  of  a  better." 

"  And  that  I  shall  now  produce  for  your  lordship's  consideration." 

"Produce  it,"  said  the  judge. 

"Produce  it,"  said  the  company. 

"  Produce  it,"  said  the  lieutenant.     "  I  stump  him  !" 

"  You  hear  him,  my  lord— he  stumps  me  ?  I  shall  therefore  demolish  him. 
Have  I  your  lordship's  permission  to  do  so  ?" 

"  You  have,"  observed  his  lordship,  graciously. 

"  Thank  you,  my  lord.  I  then  submit  for  your  lordship's  consideration, 
the  more  euphonious  nominative  of  The  Colonel's  Gudgeon ;  for,  if  your  lord- 
ship will  please  to  remember,  it  is  the  colonel  who  proposes  to  land  him." 

"  'The  Colonel's  Gudgeon'  is  good,"  said  the  learned  judge,  "very  good — 
in  fact,"  he  added,  with  a  decided  air,  "better — much  better — than  'The 
Young  Gudgeon.'  It  is  thus  I  decide.  Now  who  is  to  pay  for  the  wine 
which  is  necessary  to  refresh  us  after  this  solemn  and  trying  case  ?" 

"  The  loser,  my  enemy,  the  nomenclator  over  the  way"-  he  is  in  for  the 
costs,"  laughed  Griswold. 

"  A  righteous  decision  !"  exclaimed  the  others. 

•'  Gentlemen,"  said  the  lieutenant,  throwing  a  glance  of  ludicrous  grief 
around  the  table,  "  as  you  justly  observe — I'm  in  for  it !" 

Seated  at  a  table  near  them,  was  a  young  gentleman  of  Kingstree,  who, 
while  acquainting  himself  with  the  merits  of  a  small  bottle  of  port,  had  been 
quietly  listening  to  the  humorous  colloquy  of  the  officers.  It  was  Sprague, 
who  had  come  to  the  Palmetto  for  the  purpose  of  picking  up  such  informa- 
tion as  he  could  of  the  movements  and  designs  of  the  British. 

"  I'll  have  some  fun  with  these  red  coats,"  he  muttered,  turning  his  chair 
for  the  first  time,  so  as  to  cateh  the  eye  of  Lieutenant  Bascom,  with  whom 
he  was  partially  acquainted,  having  been  introduced  to  him,  as  well  as  his 
companions,  at  the  ball  of  the  evening  before.  His  movement  arrested  the 
attention  of  the  lieutenant,  who  recognized  him  at  a  glance. 

"  Ha !  Sprague,  how  d'ye  do  ?    Just  in  time  for  a  fresh  bottle.     Join  us !" 

This  exclamation  drew  upon  the  young  man  the  glances  of  the  other 
parties  at  the  table,  who,  remembering  him,  added  then-  voices  to  that  of  the 
lieutenant,  and  Sprague  accepted  the  invitation. 

"  We  have  a  rich  joke,"  began  the  lieutenant,  rubbing  his  hands  with  great 
glee. 

"One  that  will  make  you  roar  yourself  hoarse,"  said  Griswold,  laughingly. 

"  Yes,  said  Lester,  "  I  have  just  decided  it" 

"  Ah  ?"  observed  Sprague,  inquiringly.     "  Something  rich,  you  say  ?" 

"  Very  rich !"  returned  Bascomb.  "  You've  heard  of  the  rebel  corporal's 
trick  upon  old  Winter?" 

"  Certainly,"  returned  Sprague.  "  Nothing  else  was  talked  of  last  night  at 
the  ball." 

"Exactly,"  said  Bascomb.  "  Well,  between  ourselves,  it  won't  go  any 
further,  of  course  ?  the  colonel,  with  his  usual  impudence,  is  going  to  perform 
an  operation  upon  young  Winter,  and  as  we  have  been  let  into  the  secret  of 
the  last,  as  every  body  has  been  into  that  of  the  first,  we  have  been  soubriquet- 
ing  the  hapless  pair." 

"Ah?"  said  Sprague,  inquiringly. 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Griswold,  modestly;  "but  the  joke  of  the  affair  em- 
anates on  this  side  of  the  table." 

"True,"  said  Lester,  "I  was  the  judge,  and  so  decided  it" 

Sprague  glanced  at  them  alternately  with  his  keen,  piercing  eye,  now  lit 
up  with  an  assumed  expression  of  anticipative  mirth. 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEK.  137 

"  No  one  desires  to  rob  that  side  of  the  table  of  the  honor  which  belongs  to 
it"  observed  Bascomb,  good  naturedly.  "  But  to  the  point  In  consideration 
oi  the  corporal's  trick  upon  the  senior  Winter,  we  have  nick-named  him  the 
Corporal's  Q-udgeon.  Capital — isn't  it?" 

''  Very  appropriate,  indeed !"  returned  Sprague,  with  affected  laughter, 
"  and  as  witty  as  appropriate  !  And  the  other,  you  say — "  he  added,  art- 
fully. 

"The  other,"  said  Griswold,  scarcely  able  to  contain  himself  at  the  young 
man's  praise,  "I  have,  to  use  Bascomb's  phrase,  immortalized  with  the  ad- 


ig  his  hands.     "  That  will  stick  to 
itionforit!" 

"  Oh !  the  best  of  foundations !"  cried  Griswold,  glancing  around  the  table. 
"  What  say  you,  gents — we  can  let  Sprague  into  it.  It's  safe  with  him  ?" 

"  Perfectly  safe,"  said  Bascomb.     "  I'll  be  answerable  for  him!" 

"  You  are  braver  than  I  would  be,  under  the  circumstances!''  muttered 
Sprague  to  himself.  "  Wine — wine !  thou  art  the  key  to  unlock  the  secrets 
of  empires — pray  heaven !  this  be  one  of  them !" 

"  He  can  be  trusted,"  remarked  Lester.     "  Certainly,  let  him  into  it !" 

The  others  nodded  encouragingly,  and  Griswold  went  on. 

"  You  see,"  he  began,  bending  over  the  table,  and  bringing  his  lips  close  to 
the  young  man's  ear,  "  the  colonel  is  going  to  send  the  fool  off  to  harrass  the 
rebels,  so  as  to  get  him  out  of  the  way." 

"  Ah !  so  as  to  get  him  out  of  the  way  ?"  repeated  Sprague,  with  an  as- 
sumed smile.  "  And  then — " 

:<  Then,  he  is  going  with  a  half  dozen  of  us  to  the  house,  when  we  shall  get 
the  old  ninny  his  father  drunk  as  a  blind  toper,  and  then  whip  off  Miss  Winter 
for  his  mistress.  Capital — isn't  it?" 

"Capital?"  repeated  Sprague,  with  assumed  gaiety,  "it's  wonderful. 
When  is  the  affair  to  come  off?'3 

"  Dick  Winter  starts  to-day — perhaps,  not  till  to-morrow;  and  at  night  of 
the  following  day  we  visit  the  old  gentleman.  But,  not  a  word !" 

"Oh!"  answered  Sprague,  calmly,  now  that  he  had  discovered  the  details 
of  the  plan,  "  you  know  you  can  trust  in  me !  But  won't  this  be  a  rich 
affair  ?"  Upon  my  word !  it  all  but  makes  me  burst  Instead  of  singling 
them,  you  should  have  termed  them  the  Gudgeon  Family  !" 

"  Ha!  ha !  ha !"  laughed  the  party,  in  chorus,  "capital — capital !" 

"  But,"  added  Sprague,  "'the  wine  is  out,  and  jokes  like  these  make  one 
dry.  Landlord,"  he  continued,  seeing  that  personage  hovering  near,  "there 
are  seven  of  us!" 

returned  the  host,  and  seven  bottles  were  speedily  before 


"  The  object  of  the  colonel,"  resumed  Sprague,  as  the  wine  sparkled  on  the 
board,  "  is  to  flog  the  rebels  in  this  neighborhood  out  of  their  fine  senses  ?" 

"  If  he  catches  the  rascals,  yes,"  said  Bascomb. 

"  They  may  rely  upon  it,"  volunteered  Lester,  "  that  the  colonel  will  give 
them  some  souvenirs  worth  remembering !" 

"  No  doubt  of  it — no  doubt  of  it,"  observed  Sprague.  "  But  his  object  here 
is  not  a  general  one,  I  presume  ?" 

"No,"  said  Griswold,  tossing  off  his  glass,  re-filling  it,  and  slowly  mutter- 
ing at  the  same  time,  "  far  from  it  Something  more  specific.  He  intends 
to  remain  here  till  Friday,  when  he  shall  have  a  reinforcement,  and  then  it  is 
his  intention  to  cross  over  to  Snow's  Island,  beard  Marion  in  his  den,  and 
exterminate  him  and  his  men.  He  has  received  particular  instructions  from 
Cornwallis  to  that  effect" 

"  Marion  is  at  Snow's  Island,  then?"  asked  Sprague,  with  an  expression 
of  surprise.  "  How  did  the  colonel  learn  that?" 

18 


}38  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

"  Somebody  sent  him  word  from  Georgetown.     Did  you  not  know  it  ?" 

"  The  fact  is."  he  said,  "  Marion's  whereabouts  has  long  been  a  mystery  to 
us.  Once  in  a  while  we  hear  of  him;  but  it  is  only  when  he  throws  himseli 
right  under  our  very  nose :  and  before  we  can  collect  men  enough  to  take 
him  and  his  band,  he  is  off  Is  this  Tarleton's  first  effort  to  take  him  ?" 

"  Say  rather  the  twentieth!"  returned  Griswold,  with  a  shrug. 

"And  Marion  has  slipped  through  his  fingers  every  time ?" 

"  Every  time,"  replied  Griswold.  "The  truth  in  the  matter  is,  this  Marion 
has  not  been  dubbed  the  Swamp  Pox  for  nothing.  Now  he  is  here,  now 
there,  and  you  think  you've  got  him :  but  when  you  come  to  lay  your  hand 
upon  him,  he  isn't  there  !" 

"  In  fact,"  said  Bascomb,  "  this  is  Tarleton's  latest  attempt  to  take  him. 
He  has  undertaken  it  and  failed  so  frequently,  that  Cornwallis  begins  to 
taunt  him  with  inability.  It  is  therefore  a  point  of  honor,  as  well  as  pride, 
with  him,  to  make  this  trial  a  successful  one." 

"Which  he  will  not!"  muttered  Sprague  to  himself.  "No  doubt,"  he 
said  aloud,  "  he  will  achieve  Marion's  capture,  if  he  bends  himself  to  it.  His 
present  large  force — by  the  way,  what  is  your  number?"  he  added  ab- 
ruptly. 

"  Eight  hundred,"  answered  Bascomb. 

"  And  Marion's  ?" 

"It  is  supposed  to  be  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of  four  hundred,"  ' 
answered  Lester,  to  whom  this  question  was  addressed. 

"And  your  expected  reinforcements — " 

"  Will  amount  to  two  hundred  more." 

"  Which."  said  Sprague,  "  added  to  your  present  force,  will  make  a  total 
of  eleven  hundred  men.  With  such  immense  odds  in  his  favor,  Tarleton 
cannot  help  capturing  the  rebel.  When  did  you  say  the  reinforcement 
would  arrive?"  be  added,  carelessly. 

"On  Friday." 

"Where  from?" 

"  Georgetown." 

"  By  the  line  of  the  Black  River  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Under  whom?" 

"Colonel  Watson." 

"Can  he  be  relied  on?" 

"Who?  Colonel  Watson  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Unquestionably." 

"  Then  there  is  no  chance  for  the  Swamp  Fox,"  said  Sprague,  laughingly. 
"He'll  lose  his  tail  at  last!" 

"Oh,  it  won't  be  so  very  easy  a  matter  to  take  him,  as  you  think,"  ob- 
served Bascomb.  "  Marion's  position  is  in  itself  almost  impregnable.  It  is  a 
sort  of  natural  fortress.  Two  hundred  well  armed  and  properly  posted  men 
could  hold  it  against  an  army." 

"  In  that  case,"  returned  Sprague,  "  what  prospect  of  success  has  Tarleton 
with  eleven  hundred  troops  against  the  four  or  five  hundred  of  Marion,  es- 
pecially as  the  latter  knows,  no  doubt,  how  to  post  his  men  judiciously  ?" 

"Ah!"  replied  Bascomb,  knowingly,  "that's  the  mystery!" 

"Then,"  said  Sprague,  "Tarleton  don't  intend  to  storm  the  island,  after 

"No,"  returned  all  of  the  officers  at  once,  in  the  tone  of  men  possessing  a 
great  secret. 

!!  ^k~ne.  don>t  ?"  said  Sprague,  imitating  their  manner. 

'  No,"  said  Bascomb.    Then  bringing  his  lips  close  to  the  young  man's  ear, 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRV    MEN.  139 

he  added,  "  his  plan  is  to  divide  his  men,  and  attack  the  den  of  the  Swamp 
Fox  in  five  different  points  at  once !" 

"  Oh,  ho  !"  exclaimed  Sprague,  with  an  expression  of  profound  surprise. 
"That's  it,  is  it?" 

Bascom  and  his  companions  nodded. 

"  Why,"  cried  Sprague,  with  affected  rapture,  "  the  idea  is  grand,  beauti- 
ful, sublime !" 

"  Is  it  not?"  exclaimed  the  officers,  exultantly.  "Won't  that  bother  the 
Swamp  Fox,  cunning  as  he  is  ?" 

"  It  will  not  only  bother,  it  will  annihilate  him !"  exclaimed  Sprague,  ap- 
plaudingly. "  Upon  my  word !  I  scarcely  know  which  most  to  admire — 
Tarleton's  courage,  or  the  magnificence  of  his  plans.  He'll  turn  out  a  gene- 
ral yet!" 

'"Leave  him  alone  for  carving  his  way  to  greatness!"  said  Lester,  know- 
ingly- 

"Now  to  frighten  these  drunken  bucks  out  of  their  wits!"  muttered 
Sprague  to  himself.  "  By  the  way,  gentlemen,"  he  said  aloud,  "  about  this 
nick-name  of  young  Winter.  Yoi&nust  be  cautious  about  letting  it  out  just 
yet,  as  well  as  of  keeping  silent  in  regard  to  its  author." 

"  Ah !"  observed  Griswold,  anxiously. 

"Wherefore!"  asked  Bascom. 

"  Any  danger  in  it  ?"  demanded  Lester. 

Sprague  glanced  at  their  anxious  features  alternately,  and  then  answer- 
ed, slowly : 

"  The  fact  is,  Richard  Winter  is  one  of  the  greatest  dare-devils  in  South 
Carolina." 

"  What  then  ?"  said  Griswold,  somewhatAervously. 

"What  do  we  care  for  him?"  continuerl  Bascom,  with  an  air  of  de- 
fiance. 

"  What  of  that  ?"  asked  Lester,  in  a  voice  which  trembled  despite  ite  ef- 
forts to  appear  firm. 

As  to  die  other  three  officers,  they  appeared  perfectly  indifferent 

"He  is  also,"  added  Sprague,  in  a  slow,  measured  tone,  "  a  most  expert 
swordsman." 

Griswold  changed  color.     Moisture  gathered  upon  his  brow. 

Lester's  fingers  trembled  convulsively,  and  his  cheeks  became  pale. 

Bascom  alone  was  unmoved. 

Sprague's  calm,  watchful  eyes  carefully  observed  each  of  these  marked 
changes.  • 

"  More  than  this,"  he  added,  "  Winter  is  of  a  wild,  fearless,  unforgiving 
spirit,  dangerous  even  when  unruffled,  but  fearful  and  implacable  when 
aroused.  Ask  his  character  of  any  man  in  this  neighborhood,  and  he  will 
tell  you  he  would  rather  have  the  ill  will  of  a  hundred  men  for  twenty 
years,  than  the  anger  of  Richard  Winter  for  a  single  hour." 

Lester  and  Griswold  now  became  absolutely  livid.  They  could  not  speak ; 
fear  had  struck  them  dumb. 

"  Do  you  tell  this  to  frighten  us  ?"  demanded  Bascom,  sternly. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  replied  Sprague,  calmly,  "  I  tell  it  to  you  out  of  pure 
good  feeling,  that  you  may  not  compromise  yourselves.  Should  the  names 
of  the  authors  of  the  sobriquet  come  to  his  ears,  their  lives  would  not  be 
worth  the  wine  which  is  in  this  glass !'' 

"For  all  that,"  said  Bascom,  without  altering  a  muscle,  "  if  he  should  ask 
me  if  I  were  its  author,  I  would  answer  him  yes,  and  risk  the  consequences. 
Well,  fellow,  what  do  you  want?" 

This  question  was  put  to  the  landlord,  who  now  approached  the  table,  and 
-was  standing  beside  him. 


140  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DATS 

"  You  desired  me  to  let  you  know  when  Colonel  Tarleton  rose,  so  yon 
could  be  the  first  to  present  yourself  before  him !" 
"  Well?"  said  Bascom,  naughtily. 

"  Well,  sir,"  added  Barker,  "  Colonel  Tarleton  has  risen,  and  is  now  making 
his  toilet." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Bascom,  without  thanking  him. 

The  landlord  moved  away,  muttering — 

"  D n  his  haughty  insolence !     I'll  punish  him  for  it  yet !     Didn't  I 

overhear  his  ridicule  of  Dick  Winter,  and  won't  I  tell  him  of  it  ?     Oh,  no — 
of  course  not !" 

"Now,  Sprague,"  said  Bascom,  tranquilly,  "in  case  this  affair  should  come 
in  its  true  light  to  Winter's  ears,  and  he  should  take  the  trouble  to  inquire 
into  its  author,  you  have  my  full  permission  to  tell  him  that  the  name  of  the 
individual  is  Lieutenant  George  Bascom,  of  his  majesty's  ninety-third. 
Good  morning,  sir !" 

So  saying,  he  rose  from  the  table,  and,  accompanied  by  his  companions, 
passed  from  the  bar  room. 

"You  are  a  brave  fellow!"  muttered  Sprague,  following  him  with  his  eyes, 
"  and  worth  forty  Richard  Winters.  As  for  me,  now  that  the  coast  is  clear, 
I  must  hurry  home,  write  Marion  the  details  of  Tarleton's  plan,  and  at  the 
same  time  despatch  a  note  to  Somers,  warning  him  of  the  danger  of  his  be- 
frothed.  It  strikes  me  forcibly,"  he  continued,  as  he  quitted  the  inn,  "  that 
Colonel  Watson  and  his  two  hundred  troops  will  not  make  their  appearance 
here  on  Friday.  I  may  be  wrong,  but  such  is  my  opinion !" 

Meanwhile,  Richard  Winter,  with  an  energy  quite  in  keeping  with  his 
character,  mingled  among  the  numerous  idlers  congregated  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  Palmetto,  propos^the  organization  of  a  band  under  the  name 
and  style  of  the  Tory  Rangers,  drew  up  a  code  of  laws,  persuaded  some  five 
and  twenty  young  fellows  of  his  own  stamp  to  sign  it,  nominated  himself  for 
their  leader,  and,  his  dare-devil  merits  being  universally  known,  was  elected 
without  a  dissenting  voice. 

Ere  noon  arrived,  he  had  completed  the  necessary  details  for  the  manage- 
ment of  his  band.  These  accomplished,  he  proceeded  to  the  Palmetto,  where 
he  waited  impatiently  for  the  signal  to  present  himself  before  Colonel  Tarle- 
ton. 

An  hour  floated  by  ere  he  received  the  desired  permission.  At  the  end  of 
that  period,  a  young  adjutant  appeareU  before  him,  saying : 

"  Colonel  Tarleton  desires  to  see  you,  immediately." 

Winter  bowed  his  thanks,  hastened  up  stairs,  turned  into  a  chamber  facing 
tke  green— the  same  in  which  we  have  previously  seen  him,  in  company 
with  Frederick  Crampton — and  the  next  moment  was  face  to  face  with 
Colonel  Tarleton. 

The  latter  was  alone,  and  saluted  him  cordially. 

"Take  a  chair,  Winter,"  he  said,  familiarly,  at  the  same  time  throwing 
himself  upon  a  seat  near  a  small  table,  which  was  covered  with  maps,  papers 
and  writing  implements  of  every  description.  "I  gave  you  yesterday,"  he 
began,  "a  roving  commission  to  harrass  and  annoy,  in  the  name  of  his  ma- 
jesty, the  rebel?  of  *his  section  of  the  province.  But  I  have  since  heard  so 
much  of  your  superior  abilities,  that  I  have  decided  upon  changing  that  com- 
mission to  on«  of  a  higher  character ;  that  is  to  say,  1  have  thought  it  best 
to  send  you  to  Cornwallis,  in  order  that  he  may  have  the  immediate  advan- 
tage of  such  services  as  you  can  render  him  in  his  efforts  to  crush  this  bold 
and  insolent  rebellion.  This,  it  appears  to  me,  will  be  of  greater  and  more 
instantaneous  advantage  to  yon,  than  the  other,  as  it  will  bring  you  at  once 
under  the  eye  of  the  commander-in-chief,  and  throw  you  into  familiar  con- 
tact with  one  who  is  both  capable  of  appreciating  and  rewarding  your  abili- 
ties, at  their  true  worth." 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  141 

"How  can  I  express  my  gratitude  for  this  noble  generosity — "  stammered 
Richard,  half  wild  at  this  turn  of  his  good  fortune. 

"  By  saying  nothing  about  it,"  interrupted  Tarleton,  smilingly.  "  In  ono 
•word—do  you  know  that  I  prefer  monosyllablic  replies  to  my  interrogato- 
ries?— how  does  my  plan  suit  you  ?  Answer  me  in  one  word !'' 

"  Well,"  returned  Richard. 

"  Then  we  will  consider  it  settled,"  said  Tarleton,  taking  a  couple  of  sealed  pa- 
pers from 'the  table  and  handing  them  to  his  auditor.  "  Here  are  two  letters, 
which  you  will  present  to  Cornwallis ;  one  of  them  concerns  yourself,  the  other  is 
a  private  despatch  relative  to  my  own  affairs.  You  will  present  them  both 
to  the  commander-in-chief,  with  my  compliments,  and  act  according  to  his 
instructions.  I  need  not  say  that  both  favor  and  fortune  are  now  in  your 
own  hands." 

Eichard  bowed  his  thanks. 

"  By  the  way,  how  many  followers  can  you  count  upon?" 

"  Twenty -five,"  answered  Richard. 

"  All  stout,  bold,  determined  and  firm  adherents  of  the  king?" 

"  Every  man  of  them." 

"  Enough.  That  is  all  that  is  required.  What  are  your  arrangements — 
immediate  ?" 

"  Immediate." 

"  You  could  start,  then,  at  a  moment's  warning  ?" 

"  If  so  ordered — yes." 

"Very  well,  indeed!"  exclaimed  Tarleton,  with  an  air  of  satisfaction.  "I 
find  I  have  not  overrated  your  abilities.  I  shall  not  call  upon  you  to-day. 
But  at  the  earliest  of  to-morrow's  dawn  you  had  better  be  on  your  way,  ac- 
companied by  your  troop.  You  will  find  tlf  commander-in-chief  near  Beat- 
tie's  Ford,  on  the  banks  of  the  Pedee.  The  sooner  you  reach  him,  as  the  in- 
telligence in  my  despatch  is  of  considerable  moment,  the  heartier  will  be 
your  reception." 

"I  will  start  at  day  break,"  said  Richard. 

"  Enough.  Now  for  other  matters.  I  owe  Mr.  Winter,  your  respected 
father,  an  apology  for  my  last  evening's  rudeness — nay,  don  t  interrupt  me. 
I  owe  him  an  apology,  and,  like  any  other  debt,  ft  must  and  shall  be  paid. 
Unfortunately,  my  duties  are  numerous,  and  my  leisure  moments  few. 
Nevertheless,  if  I  cannot  pay  Mr.  Whiter  my  debt  to-day,  I  can  and  will  to- 
morrow. Will  you  oblige  me  by  stating  to  your  father,  that  I  will  do  my- 
self the  honor  to  wait  upon  him  at  eight  to-morrow  evening?  Ah !  you  will? 
Thank  you  f  Now,  then,  as  I  shall  not  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
again  for  some  time,  let  us  shake  hands.  Be  assured,  sir,  that  my  interest 
with  the  commander-in-chief  shall  ever  be  exerted  in  your  favor.  Adieu !" 

He  pressed  the  young  tory's  hand  -warmly,  then  resuming  his  seat,  busied 
himself  with  the  papers  on  the  table  before  him. 

Richard  retired,  wild,  trembling  and  confused  at  his  good  fortune.  Hur- 
rying his  men  together,  he  notified  them  of  his  arrangements,  bade  them 
be  in  the  saddle  at  the  door  of  the  Palmetto  half  an  hour  before  dawn  of  the 
following  day,  and  then  mounting  his  horse,  drove  home  as  if  racing  with  a 
thunder  cloud. 

Mr.  Winter  received  the  announcement  of  Colonel  Tarleton's  promised 
visit  first  with  surprise,  and  then  with  pride.  The  latter  feeling,  however, 
was  somewhat  lessened  as  he  heard  of  Richard's  intended  departure.  This 
was  a  blow  for  which  he  was  scarcely  prepared.  Mr.  Winter's  fondness  for 
his  son  had  degenerated  into  a  weakness.  With  all  his  faults,  Richard  was 
to  him  the  apple  of  his  eye.  To  look  upon  his  "  darling  boy,"  was  to  him 
the  acme  of  human  felicity.  Not  to  have  the  privilege  of  seeing  him  at  least 
onoe  a  day,  was  unutterable  misery.  And  now  that  he  was  going  away,  and 
for  an  indefinite  time — the  bare  thought  was  frightful !  And  while  Richard 


142  THE   SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

hurried  to  his  room,  to  make  the  necessary  preparations  for  his  journey,  his: 
father  retired  to  his  chamber  to  weep.  Let  us  respect  a  weakness  founded 
on  love ! 

To  Amy,  the  intelligence  of  Tarleton's  coming  was  far  from  gratifying.  At 
first,  it  struck  her  like  the  announcement  of  an  approaching  misfortune.  As 
she  reflected  upon  it,  however,  as  she  recalled  Tarleton's  libidinous  manner, 
his  brazen  effrontery,  and  the  insulting  proposal  he  had  had  the  impudence 
to  make  to  her  at  the  ball, — as  she  weighed  his  intriguing  character,  his  self- 
imposed  visit — his  pretext  for  getting  Richard  out  of  the  way — a  suspicion, 
faint  at  first,  but  gradually  becoming  clearer  and  bolder  and  stronger,  of  the  • 
truth,  stole  over  and  appalled  her.  She  shuddered  as  she  thought  of  her 
utter  defencelessness  in  case  her  suspicions  should  become  realities.  To  lay 
her  fears  before  Richard,  would,  she  was  aware,  only  be  to  subject  herself  to 
ridicule  and  insult ;  to  explain  them  to  her  father,  in  the  hope  that  he  would 
hearken  to  her  with  respect,  would  be  utterly  futile.  In  this  position,  what 
was  she  to  do  ?  A  thought  struck  her.  She  would  call  on  Mrs.  Brunton, 
tell  her  of  her  fears,  invite  her  to  spend  the  evening  with  her,  and  give  -her, 
at  the  same  time,  a  delicate  hint  to  bring  a  male  friend  or  two  with  her. 
This  resource  appeared  to  Amy  her  only  one.  She  spent  the  remainder  of 
the  day,  the  evening  and  the  night,  in  trying  to  discover  another  or  a  better 
one,  but  failed. 

When  she  arose,  Richard  had  already  taken  his  departure.  When  she 
descended  to  the  breakfast  room,  she  found  her  father  in  tears.  Swallowed 
up  in  fondness  for  his  son,  Mr.  Winter  had  nothing  for  his  daughter  but 
harshness,  frowns  and  monosyllables. 

As  the  morning  wore  away,  hmyever,  the  old  gentleman's  severe  manner 
relaxed,  and  he  became  somewjit  conversible.  Taking  advantage  of  this 
calm,  Amy  proposed  and  obtained  his  consent  to  her  inviting  Mrs.  Brunton,  to 
help  her  do  the  honors  of  the  evening.  Overjoyed  at  this  permission,  she 
ordered  the  carriage,  rode  up  to  Kingstree,  called  upon  her  friend,  and  in  a 
few  hurried  words  laid  everything  before  her. 

Mrs.  Brunton  heard  her  quietly  to  the  end,  and — declined }  She  was  sorry, 
very  sorry ;  but  her  aversion  to  Colonel  Tarleton  was  such,  that  nothing  in 
the  world  would  induce  he?  to  be  seen  for  a  moment  in  his  society.  As  for 
Amy's  fears,  she  considered  them,  if  she  must  speak  plainly,  weak,  and  with- 
out foundation.  Colonel  Tarleton,  though  an  unprincipled  libertine,  would 
not  dare  to  take  any  forcible  steps  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  designs 
upon  a  lady's  honor.  The  idea  was  preposterous ! 

Airiy  was  stupified  at  this  unexpected  refusal.  She  surveyed  the  widow 
for  a  few  moments  with  a  mingled  expression  of  astonishment  and  despair ; 
then  rising,  she  stammered  confusedly  her  regrets  at  having  disturbed  her, . 
and  with  a  trembling  air  took  her  leave. 

As  she  threw  herself  into  the  carriage,  a  sense  of  desolation  crept  over  her. 
The  observations  of  Mrs.  Brunton,  far  from  reassuring,  filled  her  with  still 
deeper  alarm.  As  though  it  had  been  a  whisper  from  her  guardian  angel,  the 
conviction  now  rose  up  before  her  that  the  widow,  instead  of  being  a  friend, 
was  an  abiding  enemy.  But  for  what?  Amy  tried  in  vain  to  solve  the 
enigma.  Still,  she  was  none  the  less  satisfied  that  Mrs  Brunton  was  an  ad- 
versary of  whom  she  should  beware. 

But  she  had  half  thought  the  same  of  Richard — and  of  her  father  !  But 
were  THEY  her  foes  ?  They  were  cruel,  harsh,  unsympathizing ;  but  did  they, 
could  they,  really  hate  her?  No:  it  w&s  impossible:  for  was  she  not  allied 
to  them  by  blood — the  sister  of  the  one,  the  daughter  of  the  other  ?  The 
idea  was  ridiculous.  Why,  then,  might  not  her  suspicion  of  the  widow, 
founded  as  it  was  on  no  juster  basis,  be  equally  as  erroneous  and  unjust? 

And  yet,  poor  girl!  she  felt  that  everything  was  crumbling  and  giving  way 
beneath  her  ;  that  her  old,  best,  and  only  friends  were  one  by  one  deserting 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERKY    MEN.  143 

her ;  that  Richard  cared  nothing  for  her,  and  only  regarded  her  as  a  target 
for  his  all  humors,  and  as  a  ladder  by  which  he  might  mount  to  wealth,  influ- 
ence and  power  ;  and  that  her  father,  carried  away  by  his  insensate  love  for 
Richard,  by  whom  he  was  guided  in  all  things,  even  in  his  hatreds  and  affec- 
tions, looked  upon  her,  only  as  a  thing  to  be  used  for  his  son's  advancement, 
and  not  as  a  legitimate  claimant  on  his  confidence  or  sympathy. 

And  why  was  all  this  ?  Because  of  her  acknowledged  love  for  Somers  ?  It 
must  be  so.  For  previous  to  that,  she  had  had  a  small  share  in  her  father's 
affections,  but  not  a  shadow  of  it  since.  Richard,  too,  was  rough  but  kind ; 
but  since  his  discovery  of  her  partiality  for  Neil,  his  heart  seemed  turned 
against  her.  And  now  an  old  friend  and  confidant,  Mrs  Brunton,  had  also 
for  some  inexplicable  cause,  joined  in  the  chase  to  worry  and  run  her  down. 

While  striving  to  analyze  the  reason  of  this  conduct  on  the  part  of  her 
fair  friend,  a  thought,  wild,  fierce  and  burningly  intense,  came  up  from  one 
of  the  long-locked  cells  of  her  memory,  and  flashed  across  her  startled  brain 
like  a  line  of  fire. 

She  remembered  having  heard  it  hinted  that  Mrs.  Brunton  was  herself  in 
love  with  the  handsome  planter,  and  had  resolved  to  win  him  ! 

Could  this  be  true?  If  so,  then  it  was  not  a  friend  she  had  hi  the  accom- 
plished widow,  but  a — rival ! 

This,  then,  explained  the  cause  of  Mrs.  Brunton's  coldness,  of  her  waning 
friendship,  of  her  refusal !  This,  then,  was  the  key  to  her  conviction  that  the 
widow  was  her  enemy ! 

As  these  thoughts  beset  her,  Amy  gave  way  for  a  moment  to  a  feeling  of 
despair. « 

Meanwhile,  the  carriage  wa?  slowly  conveying  her  homeward. 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  her  heart's  gloom,  a  star  appeared — Somers. 

As  the  image  of  her  lover  passed  before  her  mental  vision,  despair  sprang 
from  her  breast  and  slunk  away ;  the  pearly  tears  which  had  been  coursing 
icily  down  her  pale  cheeks  became  a  warm,  gushing  shower ;  her  heart,  but 
now  heavy  and  oppressed,  bounded  with  elasticity,  fullness  and  hope — Somers 
was  hers — hers  only ! 

To  console  her  for  her  brother's  cruelty,  had  she  not  Somers'  gentleness  ; 
to  sooth  her  for  her  father's  neglect,  had  she  not  Somers'  fondness  ;  to  pay 
her  for  the  sufferings  she  endured  at  the  hands  «f  her  relatives  and  friends, 
had  she  not  Somers'  constant  love  ? 

What  need  then  of  fear,  of  anxiety,  for  the  pretensions  of  her  designing 
rival?  Away  with  them!  She  would  think  of  them  no  more — she  would 
forget  all,  everything  that  might  render  her  unhappy ;  she  would  remember 
only  the  unfaltering  love  of  Somers — her  Somers — hers  only ! 

"  But  Tarleton  ?"  And  as  this  sentence  crossed  her,  her  brow  once  again 
grew  dark.'  "  This  hated  Tarleton !"  Were  Somers  near,  she  would  not 
tremble  for  fifty  Tarletons !  If  she  but  had  a  father  that  cared  for  her !  If 
she  but  had  a  friend  in  whom  she  could  trust — a  male  friend,  a  friend  who 
wore  a  sword  and  had  a  noble  heart ! 

And  with  the  rising  of  this  thought,  she  unconsciously  put  her  head 
through  the  carriage  window,  and  glanced  down  the  road. 

Had  heaven  heard  her  wish,  and  sympathizing  with  her  grief,  kindly  sent 
her  what  she  so  earnestly  desired. 

Scarcely  twenty  paces  off  she  beheld  one  of  the  bravest,'  cleverest,  and 
most  generous  minded  gentlemen  of  Carolina,  leisurely  approaching1. 

It  was  our  old  acquaintance,  the  exquisite,  mounted  on  a  small,  beautifully 
shaped  roan,  on  his  way  to  Kingstree. 

Their  eyes  met,  and  Crampton,  with  that  quiet  ease  for  which  he  was  so 
remarkable,  calmly  lifted  his  hat  and  saluted  her  with  a  graceful  bow. 

Amy  bade  the  driver  pause,  and  the  exquisite  comprehending  by  this  that 
she  desired  to  speak  with  him.  quietly  reined  up  beside  the  carriage  window. 


144  THE   SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

"  Weally,  Miss  Wintah,"  he  began,  "  this  is  an  unexpected  pleasah !  How- 
did  you  enjoy  yourself  at  the  ball  ?  Do  you  know  I  have  a  compliment  for 
you?  But  I  musn't  tell  it,  I  suppose,"  he  added  drawlingly  ;  "it  would 
make  you  vain.  Where  is  Wichard  ?" 

Then  perceiving  an  air  of  sadness  upon  Amy's  countenance,  he  said — 

"  I'm  afwaid,  Miss  Wintah,  something  twoubles  you !  You  have  had  some 
bad  news  ?  Can  I  be  of  any  service  to  you  ?"  he  added,  in  a  more  subdued 
tone.  "  Ah !  you  have  something  to  tell  me  ?  Nothing  gone  wrong  with 
Somahs,  I  hope  ?"  he  continued  bringing  his  ear  close  to  her,  and  considerate- 
ly throwing  his  eyes  upon  the  ground. 

The  exquisite,  as  the  reader  is  already  aware,  was  the  mutual  friend  and 
confidant  of  the  lovers,  and  Amy  made  no  scruple  of  laying  before  him  the 
secret  of  her  troubles.  When  she  had  concluded,  Crampton  observed : 

"  I  am  vewy  much  obliged  to  you,  Miss  Wintah,  for  this  expwession  of 
your  confidence.  As  to  the  individual  under  consideration,  if  he  attempts 
anything  ungentlemanly,  let  him  look  out.  Make  yourself  easy.  I  will  see  a 
friend  or  two,  with  your  permission,  and  make  such  awangements  as  will  se- 
cure you  from  injuwy." 

"I  expected  nothing  less  from  you  my  friend!"  said  Amy,  with  emotion. 
"  How  shall  I  ever  be  able  to  evince  my  gratitude  ?" 

"  Ah !  don't  mention  it,"  replied  the  exquisite.  "  It  gives  me  the  gweatest 
pleasure  imaginable  to  have  the  ability  to  show  the  high  wespect  I  entertain 
for  you.  Keep  up  your  heart,  Miss  Wintah — evewything  will  go  well,  depend 
upon  it.  Au  revoir  /" 

He  lifted  his  hat  gracefully,  and  bidding  the  driver  proceed,  pasted  on, 
leaving  his  fair  friend  with  a  lighter  heart  than  he  had  found  her. 

As  he  rode  into  Kingstree,  he  directed  his  horse  to  the  house  of  young 
Sprague,  with  whom  he  was  on  a  familiar  footing. 

The  latter  was  about  to  leave  the  house,  as  the  exquisite  drew  up  at  tha 
garden  gate. 

"Ah!  Crampton,"  cried  Sprague,  "well  met  Do  you  know  I  was  just 
going  in  search  of  you  ?" 

"  Thank  fortune !  my  de-ah  felloAv,  you  didn't  have  to  go  far.  Lead  the 
way  to  your  woom.  I  want  your  advice  on  a  matter  of  sewious  intewest." 

"  This  way,  then,"  returned  Sprague. 

They  entered  a  small  two  story  cottage  in  the  centre  of  the  lawn,  passed 
up  to  the  second  floor,  and  turned  into  the  front  chamber. 

"  Take  a  seat,"  said  Sprague,  handing  his  visitor  a  chair,  and  throwing  him- 
self upon  another.  "  It  appears  that  we  were  in  quest  of  each  other?" 

"  Ah — yes,"  returned  Crampton.  "  I  have  just  had  an  interview  with  a 
young  lady  fwiend  in  whom  I  feel  a  stwong  intewest.  She  has  some  weason 
to  suppose  herself  in  danger,  and  as  I  should  nevah  forgive  myself  if  any  ac- 
cident should  befell  her  when  it  was  in  my  powah  to  pwevent  it,  I  have  come 
to  ask  your  assistance  for  a  few  hours  after  dark." 

Sprague  looked  at  him  thoughtfully  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  observed : 

"  This  is  very  singular  !  I  was  about  to  hunt  after  you,  to  make  the  same 
request." 

"  You  ?"  said  the  exquisite,  with  an  expression  of  surprise.  "  Are  you  not 
quizzing  me  now  ?" 

"  Not  in  the  least.     But  who  is  your  lady  ?" 

"  Miss  Wintah !     And  yours,  my  deah  fellow  ?" 

"  Miss  Winter." 

"Now,  Spwague,  you  curs  quizzing  me !" 

"Not  at  all" 


OF   MARION   AND   HIS   MERRY   MEN.  146 

«  What  twap  ?" 

"  The  plan  for  her  abduction." 

"  There  is  a  twap,  then,"  exclaimed  Crampton,  staring  at  him.  "  A  twap 
to  carry  her  off?" 

"  Certainly,  you  know  that,  as  well  as  Miss  Winter — do  you  not  ?" 

The  exquisite  quietly  shook  his  head. 

"  Then  how  is  it  you  are  telling  me  of  it?"  asked  Sprague,  in  astonishment. 

"  I  ?"  returned  the  exquisite,  somewhat  confused. 

"You!"  repeated  Sprague. 

"I,"  said  Crampton,  staring  at  his  interlocutor,  am  telling  you  only  of 
Miss  Wintah's  suspicions." 

"  Ah !  that  indeed  ?"  muttered  Sprague,  thoughtfully.  "  She  suspects  it, 
then  ?" 

"That  is  all,  my  deah  fellow!  But  you— you!  What  is  it  you  are  talk- 
ing about?" 

"  I  am  speaking  of  a  fact!" 

"  Ah !  wait  a  moment,  my  deah  fellow — wait  a  moment !"  returned  the  ex- 
quisite, dropping  his  eyes  upon  the  carpet  with  a  puzzled  air.  At  length  his 
brow  cleared  up,  and  raising  his  head,  he  added :  "  I  see  it  now,  Spwague  ; 
you  know  to  be  twue  what  she  only  suspects  ?" 

"  I  presume  it  is  so,"  returned  the  other.  "  But  let  us  compare  notes,  and 
then  we  will  be  sure." 

He  then  related  what  he  had  heard  from  the  officers  at  the  Palmetto. 

The  exquisite  was  both  astonished  and  indignant  at  the  recital  Amd  in 
his  turn  he  gave  the  details  of  his  conversation  with  Miss  Winter. 

"  It  appears  then,"  said  Sprague,  "  that  the  young  lady  is  far  more  saga- 
cious than  either  her  father,  who  innocently  fancies  himself  a  personage  of 
superior  discernment,  or  her  brother,  who  has  suffered  himself  to  be  sent  on 
&  wild  goose  chase.  But,  no  matter.  We  must  look  to  Miss  Winter's  safety, 
at  all  hazards.  What  sort  of  a  sword  do  you  carry  ?" 

"  None  at  pwesent,"  replied  Crampton,  laughingly.  "  But  to-night  I  shall 
be  accompanied  by  as  fine  a  wapier  as  there  is  in  the  pwovince." 

"  As  there  may  be  half  a  dozen  of  Tarleton's  red-coats  with  him,"  said 
Sprague,  "  and  but  two  of  us,  I  think  it  would  be  advisable  to  slip  a  pair  of 
baiters  in  your  belt,  as  well.  Why  do  you  look  so  studious  ?" 

"  I'm  thinking,'"  returned  the  exquisite,  "  what  excuse  I  shall  make  to  my 
mother  in  case  she  detects  me  going  out,  armed,  like  a  moving  magazine." 

"  Tell  her,"  said  Sprague,  ingenuously,  "  that  a  lady's  honor  is  in  danger,  and 
that  she  has  selected  you  for  her  champion." 

"Thevewy  thing!"  cried  the  exquisite,  rapturously.  "She  would  not 
twy  to  keep  me  a  moment  after  that !  I  am  vewy  much  obliged  to  you  for 
the  suggestion !  But  there's  one  thing,  Spwague,"  he  added,  falteringly. 

"  Name  it,"  said  Sprague,  who  perfectly  understood  the  noble  character  of 
the  man  before  him. 

"  There  may  be  such  a  thing,"  said  the  exquisite,  "  as  my  being  killed — " 

"Don't  think  of  it — " 

" But  I  do"  said  Crampton,  firmly  ;  " not  for  my  own  sake,  but,"  he  ad- 
ded, touchingly,  "my  mother's !  My  death  would  kill  her.  If  I  fall,  pwom- 
ise  to  break  it  to  her  gently.  For,  indeed,  Spwague,  her's  is  a  delicate  heart !" 

"  Fear  not — trust  me  !JI  ejaculated  Sprague,  in  a  broken  voice. 

"  I  wear  her  portwait  on  my  heart,"  continued  Crampton ;  "  if  the  chances 
should  be  against  me,  take  it  to  her  and  tell  her  I  died  with  it  and  her  name 
on  my  lips.  Pwomise  me !" 

"I  do." 

"  Enough !"  said  Crampton,  at  once  assuming  his  usual  quiet  manner, 
"  We  understand  each  other.  Now,  let  us  concert  our  plan  of  battle !" 

19 


146  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    BATS 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

EARLY  in  the  evening,  that  is  to  say,  between  eight  and  nine  o'clock,  Colo- 
nel Tarleton,  accompanied  by  Lieutenant  Bascom,  appeared  at  the  door  of 
the  Winters,  and  was  shown  at  once  into  the  drawing  room. 

Mr,  Winter  received  him  with  an  obsequious  politeness  which,  while  it 
disgusted  Tarleton,  compelled  Bascom  to  bite  his  lips  till  they  bled,  to  pre- 
vent him  from  bursting  into  laughter. 

As  Amy  entered,  Tarleton  and  his  companion,  struck  with  her  dignified 
air,  brilliant  beauty  and  winning  gracefulness,  involuntarily  rose  to  do  her 
homage. 

Amy's  was  of  that  rare  loveliness  which  shines  to  greater  advantage  in  the 
drawing  than  in  the  ball  room.  Her  movements  were  easy,  her  manner 
quiet' and  subdued,  and  her  voice  low,  musical  and  clear. 

The  contrast  between  father  and  daughter  was  very  striking.  The  former 
was  servile,  pretentious,  and  unmistakably  vulgar ;  the  latter  was  calm,  self- 
possessed,  modest,  and  in  her  person,  as  in  her  bearing,  bore  herself  like  one 
accustomed  to  move  in  good  society. 

Tarleton,  with  admirable  tact,  opened  the  conversation  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  make  it  general ;  and  when  he  had  succeeded  in  placing  all  parties  at  their 
ease,  gradually  and  imperceptibly  drew  Mr.  Winter  and  the  lieutenant  into  a 
discussion,  in  which  he  left  them,  and  then  turned  his  attention  to  Arriy. 

The  latter,  deeming  it  her  best  policy  to  be  courteous  and  agreeable,  re- 
ceived him  pleasantly,  and  they  whiletl  away  an  hour  in  charming  converse 
upon  the  ball,  Kingstree,  the  province,  the  country,  England,  science,  litera- 
ture, art,  and — (it  was  the  colonel  who  broached  it) — love ! 

Here  they  paused,  Amy.  because  the  colonel  set  her  the  example :  and  Tarle- 
ton, because  love  was  his  chief  hobby,  and  because  he  wished  to  gather  in  his 
forces,  or,  in  other  words,  to  collect  his  thoughts  which  the  previous  topics 
had  sent  rambling,  for  a  grand  charge :  for,  be  it  understood,  the  introduction 
of  love  into  a  conversation  with  a  pretty  woman,  was  with  Tarleton,  equivalent 
to  making  her  an  offer  of  his  heart  without  his  hand. 

"  Love,  Miss  Winter,"  he  began,  "  is  the  hope,  the  dream,  of  youth.  It 
ennobles  man,  and  augelizes  woman.  It  is,  at  once,  the  source  of  bliss  and 
misery ;  bliss,  if  responded  to,  misery,  if  unreturned.  Ah !"  he  added,  with  a 
sigh,  "  no  misery  like  that  of  unrequited  love !" 

Amy  at  once  comprehended  that  Tarleton  was  merely  acting,  and  she 
guaged  her  reply  accordingly. 

"  It  appears  to  me,"  she  said,  "that  love  is  oftener  professed,  than  experi- 
enced. People  talk  of  love  as  they  talk  of  nobleness,  as  they  talk  of  glory : 
without  ever  experiencing  either." 

"That,"  returned  Tarleton,  understanding  her,  "is  unfortunately  true. 
But  are  we,  therefore,  to  discredit  that  there  are  some  hearts,  honest,  fervid 
and  faithful  in  their  attachments,  even  when  they  express  them  ?" 

"Humanity  forbid!"  returned  Amy.     " But  they  are  rare." 

"  I'll  not  dispute  that,"  said  Tarleton,  laughingly.  "  But  if  rare,  should 
they  not,  like  other  rarities,  be  treasured?" 

'•  By  whom  ?"  asked  Amy. 

Tarleton  was  nonplussed.  This  was  not  the  kind  of  answer  he  had  expected. 
Nevertheless,  he  proceeded. 

"Say  by  her  to  whom  he  makes  confession  of  his  love?" 

''  What  if  she  desired  it  not  ?"  replied  Amy,  calmly. 

"  It  is  not  in  woman  to  live  without  loving,"  returned  Tarleton,  "as  it  is 
not  in  man.' 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  147 

"But  his  love  may  not  please  her,"  observed  Amy,  with  a  freezing  smile. 
"  In  that  case,  must  she  perforce  receive  it?" 

"  Perforce,  no  !  Love  knows  not  force;  it  requires  passions  only  that  are 
spontaneous." 

"  Say."  continued  Amy,  "that  she  has  a  prior  love  already  ?  Of  what  in- 
terest then  to  her  is  the  newer  rarity  ?" 

"  But  she  can  sympathise  with  him  who  offers  it — she  can  at  least  respect 
it  and  him." 

"  No,"  returned  Amy,  coldly. 

Tarleton  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of  surprise. 

"  You  amaze  me,"  he  said. 

"  Possibly,"  rejoined  Amy.     "  I  have  no  faith  in  ungenerous  attachments." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  ungenerous  attachments  ?"  asked  Tarleton. 

"  Attachments  selfishly  formed  to  supplant  another." 

"But  all  attachments  are  selfish,"  said  Tarleton. 

"  A  genuine  one  must  be  so,  if  it  would  be  pure,"  returned  Amy,  quietly- 
':But  it  is  also  generous:  for  it  provides  for  the  happiness  of  the  two  parties 
embraced  in  it.  An  ungenerous  attachment,  on  the  contrary,  is  simply  and 
purely  selfish.  It  looks  for  its  own  happiness  alone,  and  meanly  strives  to 
attain  it,  first,  at  the  expense  of  her  to  whom  it  is  offered,  who  does  not  de- 
sire it,  and  who  is  already  happy  in  the  possession  of  another,  and  secondly, 
at  the  expense  of  him  who  loves,  and  trusting  in  her  truth  and  honor,  has  re- 
posed his  love  and  faith  in  her  keeping." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Tarleton,  with  an  affectation  of  deep  feeling,  "  such  an 
attachment  may  be  honest,  and  spring  from  a  free  and  generous  soul.  Man 
is  not  the  arbiter  of  his  own  feelings.  .  He  cannot  say  to  his  heart,  love  this 
maiden,  or  that  His  heart  is  free  and  independent  of  his  will.  It  wanders 
when  and  where  it  pleases,  and  happy,  thrice  happy  he,  whose  heart  and 
mind  fall  on  the  same  fair  form !  But  say  they  alight  on  one  already  chosen  ? 
What  then  ?  Shall  he  have  from  her  not  one  sweet  smile  ?  not  one  glance  of 
pity?  Is  it  fair  that  his  loving  heart,  meeting  with  no  response,  should 
wither  and  decay,  and  his  bright  mind,  sympathizing  with  his  stricken  breast, 
be  plunged  into  eternal  darkness  ?" 

"  Woman,"  replied  Amy,  "  is  answerable  for  the  consequence  of  such  pas- 
sions only  as  she  intentionally  creates.  It  would  be  ungenerous  to  charge 
her  with  any  others,  or  to  expect  her  to  pay  the  price  of  them." 

"What— not  one  sweet  smile,"  said  Tarleton,  reproachfully,  "not  one 
kindly  glance,  for  so  much  misery  ?" 

Amy  shook  her  head  quietly. 

"No,"  she  said. 

•'  Ah !  Miss  Winter,  you  are  pitiless !" 

"  No,"  repeated  Amy,  "I  am  just.  Her  smiles,  her  kindly  glances,  are  not 
her  own,  but  his  to  whom  she  is  wedded,  or  affianced.  She  cannot  giv^  what 
does  not  belong  to  her,  without  committing  a  crime." 

Tarleton  bit  his  lip.  He  felt  that,  in  Miss  Winter,  he  had  found,  not  a  soft, 
credulous  country  girl,  whom  he  could  twist  around  his  finger  with  a  word, 
but  one  equal  to  the  city's  keenest  witted  belles,  one  who,  in  intellectual 
warfare,  was  his  superier  far. 

Nevertheless,  he  determined  she  should  be  his;  he  had  made  up  his  mind, 
as  well  as  his  preparations,  to  this  effect.  Accustomed  to  triumph,  his  pride 
instinctively  revolted  at  the  idea  of  defeat.  Passion  also  influenced  him  to 
this  decision.  His  first  glimpse  of  Amy  at  the- ball,  had  aroused  desire,  and  de- 
termined him  upon  making  her  his  victim.  From  that  moment  to  the  pres- 
ent, in  his  thoughts  and  his  dreams,  her  image  had  been  constantly  before 
him,  firing  his  senses  and  inciting  him  to  her  conquest. 

Even  while  she  spoke,  his  roving  eyes  wandered  insolently  over  her  slender 
yet  symmetrical  form,  guessing  at  the  charms  hidden  beneath  the  folds  of  her 


J48  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DAYS 

I 

pearl  colored  dress,  and  glittering  with  joy  at  the  anticipation  of  approach- 
ing dalliance. 

Meanwhile,  Bascom,  prepared  beforehand,  performed  his  part  to  admira- 
tion. In  the  discussion  between  himself  and  Mr.  Winter,  he  spoke  so  loud, 
fast  and  energetically,  and  kept  up  such  a  running  fire  of  words  as  to  effect- 
ually succeed  in  the  object  for  which  it  had  been  begun,  viz :  to  enchain  the  old 
gentleman's  attention,  and  thus  give  Tarleton  full  play  in  the  prosecution  of 
his  designs  upon  the  daughter. 

In  this  the  lieutenant  was  unconsciously  assisted  by  the  ambitious  old  tory 
himself,  who  had  not  forgotten  the  instructions  of  his  son,  and  who  innocently 
deluded  himself  with  the  fancy,  that  the  colonel  might,  after  all,  fall  a  victim 
to  his  daughter's  wit  and  beauty,  and,  in  due  season,  make  her  an  offer  of  his 
hand. 

Tarleton  resumed. 

"  I  do  not  regard  affairs  of  the  heart  in  that  light,"  he  said,  with  a  pleasant 
air.  "  Love  is  too  important  to  my  happiness  to  be  thus  easily  set  aside. 
Let  us  look  at  it  in  its  true  light.  Man  was  made  to  love,  woman  to  be 
loved.  Now,  if — "  He  paused  suddenly,  placed  his  hand  to  his  brow,  aad  ap- 
peared to  be  suffering.  "  Why,"  he  said  abruptly,  "  how  oppressive  ia  the 
atmosphere !  I'm  afraid  it  will  give  me  a  vertigo.  Suppose  we  take  a  walk 
in  the  garden  ?  The  air  is  freer  and  purer  there !" 

Amy  hesitated,  and  appeared  embarrassed. 

"My  father — "  she  began,  timidly. 

"  Oh,"  said  Tarleton,  interrup'ting  her,  "  he  will  go  with  us,  certainly." 

And  he  addressed  Mr.  Winter  to  that  effect 

The  latter  replied,  "  he  would  be  but  too  happy ;"  and  Bascom,  previously 
drilled,  answering  in  the  same  strain,  Amy,  seeing  there  was  no  help  for  it, 
took  the  proffered  arm  of  Tarleton,  and  they  entered  the  garden. 

The  night  was  calm,  pleasant  and  beautiful ;  the  sky  of  a  clear,  pure  blue, 
and  gemmed  with  myriads  of  stars ;  and  the  moon  bathed  the  garden,  the 
high  road,  the  adjoining  fields,  the  neighboring  woods  and  hills  and  moun- 
tains in  a  rich  flood  of  silver. 

The  parties  had  scarcely  descended  the  steps  of  the  piazza,  however,  when 
Mr.  Winter  received  a  stunning  blow  from  some  invisible  hand,  and  fell  with 
a  low  groan,  upon  the  gravelled  walk.  Amy  started,  and  screamed,  for  a 
sense  of  the  reality  of  her  danger  was  now  manifest ;  but  ere  she  could  turn  to 
retreat,  Tarleton's  arm  had  encircled  her  waist,  and  lifted  her  from  off  her 
feet  She  struggled  to  free  herself,  uttering  at  the  same  moment,  a  prolong- 
ed and  piercing  scream. 

"  Silence !"  cried  Tarleton,  sternly,  and  placing  his  hand  hastily  over  her 
mouth ;  "  silence !  or,  I'll  strangle  you !" 

"  Away  with  her,"  said  Bascom,  "  or  the  slaves  will  be-  upon  us." 

"  Follow  me,"  returned  Tarleton,  lifting  his  victim  in  his  arms,  and  hurry- 
ing to  the  road.  But  in  raising  the  resisting  girl,  he  was  compelled  to  use 
both  hands ;  and  taking  advantage  of  this,  Amy  again  rent  the  air  with  loud 
shrieks  for  help. 

They  were  by  this  time  on  the  highway. 

"  Where  are  the  horses  ?"  cried  Tarleton. 

"  Here,"  said  a  voice,  under  a  tree,  on  the  roadside,  which  he  recognized  as 
that  of  Griswold. 

"  Hold  her  till  I  mount,"  said  Tarleton,  giving  the  screaming  girl  into  the 
hands  of  Bascom. 

The  next  moment  he  was  in  the  saddle.  Congregated  around  Him  were 
three  officers,  viz:  Bascom,  Griswold  and  Lester.  He  had  scarcely  taken  his 
seat,  however,  when  a  hissing  sound  rang  in  his  ear,  then  a  sharp,  benumbing 
pain  seized  him  in  the  right  shoulder,  and  the  next  instant  there  were  two 
•quick,  echoing  reports. 


OF    MARION    AND    HI8    MERRY    MEN.  149 

A  low  groan  broke  from  Griswold,  whose  hand  was  upon  Tarleton's  bridle. 
He  tottered  back  a  step  or  two,  threw  up  his  arms  with  a  gesture  of  surprise 
and  affright,  uttered  a  faint  sigh,  and  fell  back  upon  the  road — dead. 

"  I  am  shot  in  the  arm !"  exclaimed  Tarletou,  with  a  cry  of  rage.  "  Hand 
her  up  here,  Bascom,  and  then  to  horse.  We  are  beset!" 

As  these  words  passed  his  lips — as  Bascomb  was  in  the  act  of  lifting  Amy 
to  the  saddle — as  Lester,  trembling  with  terror,  was  hastily  placing  his  foot 
in  the  stirrup,  two  mounted  horsemen  darted,  sword  in  hand,  from  behind 
the  shadow  of  a  knoll,  about  ten  yards  off,  to  attack  them. 

At  the  same  instant  a  hurried  patter  of  hoofe  was  heard  upon  the  road  as 
if  approaching  with  lightning  speed. 

"Yield,  cowards,  villains!"  cried  the  nearest  horseman. 

"Ha!  I  know  that  voice!"  exclaimed  Bascom,  forcing  Amy  across  Tarle- 
ton's saddle,  stepping  back  a  few  paces,  boldly  unsheathing  his  blade,  and 
shouting — "  Fly,  colonel — fly !  Lester  and  I  will  cover  your  retreat !" 

By  this  time  Lester  was  in  his  saddle,  and  his  weapon  unsheathed. 

"  Enough !"  answered  Tarleton,  wheeling  his  horse.  "  I  would  remain,  but 
my  sword-arm  is  useless!" 

"Look  to  him,  Fred,"  cried  the  chivalrous  Sprague,  "I'll  take  care  of  these 
rascals !" 

"  Take  care  of  yourself,  traitor !"  shouted  Bascom,  rushing  on  him.  "  I'll 
pin  you  to  your  horse !" 

"Aye,"  answered  Sprague,  jerking  his  rein,  "  if  you  can !"  As  he  spoke 
his  horse  suddenly  glided  off,  and  Bascom's  uplifted  weapon  descended  upou 
the  ground. 

"  Where  are  you,  Fred  ?"  cried  Sprague,  taking  a  momentary  glance  up 
the  road. 

"  Here,"  answered  that  gentlema»,  "  twying  to  persuade  this  individual  to 
say  his  pwayers !  I  feel  an  in te west  in  him !" 

The  exquisite  and  Lester  were  testing  each  other's  skill  at  blood  letting. 
Instead  of  following  Sprague's  order,  and  pushing  after  Tarleton,  he  had  turn- 
ed in  self-defence  upon  the  officer,  who  had  intercepted  him.  For  this  piece 
of  impertinence,  as  Cramp  ton  termed  it,  Lester  had  already  paid  in  part  the 
price,  in  the  shape  of  three  dangerous  wounds. 

Sprague  pressed  hard  upon  his  opponent  the  lieutenant,  who  defended  him, 
self  bravely  as  well  as  with  great  skill,  striving  at  the  same  time  with  all  his 
power  to  mount  his  horse,  whose  bridle  he  held  in  his  left  hand. 

"  Bascom,"  said  Sprague,  taking  pity  at  length  upon  the  lieutenant's  infe- 
rior position,  "  your  share  in  this  rascally  abduction,  renders  you  unworthy 
of  an  honest  man's  notice.  Nevertheless,  you  are  courageous ;  and  as  that 
ie  a  redeeming  quality,  I  will  forego  my  superior  advantage,  and  meet  you  on 
foot !" 

With  these  words,  he  leapt  from  his  saddle,  and  the  next  moment  their 
blades  were  closed  hi  a  more  equal  form  of  combat 

Of  the  two,  Bascom  was  perhaps  the  better  swordsman,  but  this  advantage 
was  neutralized  to  a  considerable  degree  by  the  blindness  of  his  rage.  Sprague, 
on  tie  contrary,  was  wholly  self-possessed ;  he  parried  the  fierce  thrusts  of 
his  adversary,  and  lunged  in  return,  with  a  coolness  and  energy  which  in- 
creased the  lieutenant's  passion,  while  it  compelled  his  admiration.  The 
combat  was  sharp,  brief  and  decisive.  Enraged  at  his  adversary's  sangfroid, 
Bascom  attempted  to  drive  him  from  the  firm  position  which  he  had  main- 
tained from  the  first ;  failing  in  this,  he  next  made  an  effort,  by  entwining  his 
sword  with  that  of  his  enemy,  throwing  all  his  strength  into  his  wrist,  and  all 
his  elasticity  into  his  muscles,  to  disarm  him.  But  Sprague's  sinews  were 
wiry  and  supple,  and  successfully  resisted  the  movement. 

In  his  turn,  Sprague  now  pressed  upon  the  lieutenant.  The  latter,  after  an 
ineffectual  struggle  to  hold  himself,  was  at  length  compelled  to  give  ground. 


150  THE    SWAHP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

While  stepping  backward,  his  foot  struck  against  Gris  wold's  body,  which  was 
lying  across  the  road.  The  shock  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected,  that  he 
lost  for  a  moment  at  once  his  guard,  his  equilibrium,  and  his  presence  of 
mind. 

That  instant  was  taken  advantage  of  by  his  adversary,  whose  blade  imme- 
diately made  for  itself  a  passage  through  hi?  breast  and  worked  its  way  with 
the  speed  of  light  through  the  heart  and  liesh,  coming  out.  reeking  with  blood, 
at  his  back. 

The  lieutenant  fell,  with  a  deep  groan,  and  as  his  head  touched  the  ground, 
his  eyes  glared  for  a  moment  up  at  his  conqueror,  who  stood  over  him  with 
an  expression  which  had  in  it  more  of  grief  than  triumph. 

"  The  game  is  with  you,"  he  cried,  faintly.     "  That  was  a  k»me  pierce !" 

"I  never  shed  blood  before,"  said  Sprague ;  " and  believe  me  I  regret  the 
chance  which  brought  me  into  collision  with  so  brave  a  man  as  yourself.  Too 
are  dying,  sir,  I  fear." 

"Never  mind,"  said  the  lieutenant,  faintly.  "It's  all  right,  I  suppose. 
You  have  only  done  by  me,  as  I  should  have  done  by  you." 

"  Can  I  do  anything"  for  you  ?"  said  Sprague.  stooping  down  beside  him, 
and  taking  his  listless  hand  in  his  own. 

"  No — you  are  a  good  fellow !"  returned  the  lieutenant,  the  glare  passing 
away  from  his  eyes,  and  its  place  usurped  by  a  pleasant  light.  "  it's  too  late. 
I  haven't  got  breath  enough  to  hold  out  two  minutes.  When  you  see  Miss 
Whiter,  ask  her — to — pardon  me — for  this — this — G-od  have  mercy — I — I  re- 
pent—I  " 

His  lips  ceased  to  move.  There  was  a  thick,  gurgling  sound — a  quivering 
of  the  body — a  faint  sigh,  and  Sprague  felt  that  another  soul  had  gone  that 
night  to  give  its  account  to  God. 

Meanwhile,  Frederick  Crampton,  determined  to  return  home  with  a  sound 
skin,  as  well  as  to  teach  his  antagonist  a  lesson  he  would  not  soon  forget,  was 
energetically  engaged  in  making  marks,  as  he  termed  them,  upon  captain 
Lester,  whose  efforts  to  return  the  favor  were  more  remarkable  for  their 
earnestness  and  number  than  their  success. 

"My  deah  fellow,"  observed  the  exquisite,  with  the  utmost  nonchalance, 
"  your  skill  is  not  equal  to  your  desi-ah.  I  find  you  engaged  in  a  vewy 
shocking  and  ungentlemanly  business.  Ah !  see."  he  added,  as  he  touched 
him  with  the  point  of  his  rapier  in  the  left  breast,  making  the  seventh  wound 
he  had  given  him,  '•  your  vewy  body  blushes  at  your  meanness !  What 
would  your  mother  say  if  she  should  see  you "!  Ah!  you  are  a  pitiful  fellow ! 
Take  care,  don't  slip  from  your  saddle,  "or  you  will  inevitably  bweak  your 
neck !  What — it  is  wet,  is  it '?  Then  pweserve  yourself  in  your  seat,  and 
don't  give  the  fear-sweat  an  opportunity  to  creep  between  the  leather  of  your 
saddle,  and  the  cloth  of  your  bweeches.  What — it  is  not  sweat,  but  the  blood 
of  your  seven  wounds  ?  Ah !  that  alters  the  case.  But,  my  deah  fellow,  in 
order  that  you  may  not  fall  in  consequence  of  your  seven  wounds,  I  will  do 
you  the  honor  to  give  you  another ;  so  that,  if  you  dwop,  it  will  be  under  the 
cwushing  influence  of  eight,  which  is  a  vewy  good  number,  and  quite  enough 
to  dwive  a  man  from  his  cours-ah,  and  compel  him  to  say  his  pwayers.  I 
can't  do  it?  Ah  !  my  deah  fellow,  you  shouldn't  say  that.  It  isn't  gentle- 
manly in  the  society  that  I  move  in,  to  fib.  You  are  aware  of  the  fact  that  I 
can  mark  you  when,  where,  and  as  fwequently  as  I  please.  I  am  a  d — d 
puppy,  am  I  ?  Well,  if  I  am,  my  deah  fellow,  I  know  how  to  bark,  don't  I 
—and  to  bite — eh?"  This  latter  clause  was  put  at  the  same  moment  with 
his  rapier,  the  first  taking  effect  upon  the  captain's  ear,  the  second  npon  his 
shoulder  blade,  which  was  pierced  to  the  bone,  making  his  eighth  wound. 
"  Ah !"  continued  the  exquisite,  in  the  same  tantalizing  tone.  "  that  makes 
you  squeal,  don't  it?  You  see  now,  that  if  I  am  a  puppy,  I  can  bite  most 
iiiwiously.  You'll  make  me  sweat  for  that?  No,  you  won't,  my  deah  f^ 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  151 

low.  I  never  sweat.  I  wear  flannel,  which  you  know  absorbs  moisture. 
Ah  !  that  was  a  well  aimed  lunge,  and  if  your  hand  were  not  so  outwageous- 
ly  unsteady,  it  might  have  touched  me.  What  ?  it  did  touch  me  ?  Non- 
sense, my  deah  fellow — your  head,  like  your  body,  is  getting  light ;  you  wock 
in  your  saddle,  like  a  dwunken  man — your  optics,  like  jour  hand,  can  no 
longer  be  depended  upon !  Ah !  vewy  good — vewy  good  indeed — that  was 
an  excellent  stwoke,  but  it  didn't  quite  come  home !"  he  tauntingly  exclaim- 
ed, as  he  evaded  a  thrust  which  just  graced  his  side.  "  Half  an  inch  more, 
my  deah  fellow,  and  yon  would  have  drawn  your  first  blood.  I'll  show  yen 
how  these  things  are  done  by  those  who  understand  it.  It's  a  vewy  bewful 
pwocess.  I  assure  you  !"  So  saying,  he  drew  back  his  nimble-footed  charger 
a  few  paces ;  touched  him  lightly  in  the  flanks,  and  started  him  on  full  run 
towards  the  captain  ;  but  instead  of  proceeding  directly  at  him,  he  quietly 
guided  the  fleet  animal  off  to  the  left,  and  within  three  or  four  yards  of  his 
antagonist,  who,  unable  to  divine  his  intentions,  wheeled  to  meet  him.  This 
being  exactly  what  the  exquisite  wished  and  expected,  he  at  this  moment 
pulled  in  his  rein,  and  with  such  sudden  fierceness  as  to  almost  throw  the 
spirited  animal  upon  his  haunches ;  his  forelegs,  shod  with  bright  new  irons, 
oscillated  for  an  instant  in  the  air,  when  the  exquisite — rising  in  his  saddle 
and  throwing  out  his  weapon — touching  him  in  the  flanks,  they  fell  forward 
upon  the  hips  of  the  captain's  horse,  which  they  tore  fearfully  down  to  the 
very  fetlocks,  just  as  the  exquisite's  rapier  penetrated  the  captain's  neck. 

" That's  the  ninth  and  last!"  he  tauntingly  observed.  "Nine  is  a  bewful 
number  !  You  will  never  want  anothah — never !" 

Shrieking  with  pain,  Lester's  horse  bounded  forward  a  few  steps,  when  it 
reared,  shook  off  its  bleeding  rider,  quivered,  again  fell  on  its  feet,  and  then 
as  if  stricken  with  madness,  darted  off,  screaming  with  agony  and  terror, 
and  was  quickly  oilt  of  sight 

The  exquisite  new  dismounted,  and  holding  the  bridle  in  his  hand,  ap- 
proached his  antagonist,  who  from  the  moment  of  his  fall  had  made  no  sign. 

"  Are  you  alive,  sir  ?"  demanded  Crampton. 

The  captain  made  no  reply.  His  face  was  turned  upward  ;  the  eyes  open, 
and  staring  ;  the  neck  and  left  cheek  crimsoned,  while  around  him  the  dusty 
earth  was  saturated  with  blood. 

Crampton  bent  down  and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  officer's  breast.  There 
was  no  action  of  the  heart  in  response. 

Mis  fall  and  the  loss  of  blood  had  killed  him. 

The  exquisite  sighed.  His  heart  was  firm  and  pitiless  while  in  the  combat 
Now  that  it  was  over,  and  his  adversary  dead,  he  could  scarcely  refrain  from 
weeping. 

"  Ah !"  he  murmured,  "  how  his  mother  will  weep  when  she  hears  of 
this!" 

"  I  see  you  have  killed  your  man,  Fred !"  exclaimed  a  voice  near  him,  which 
he  instantly  recognized. 

"Yes.  Spwague,"  returned  the  exquisite,  mournfully.  "But  it's  vewy 
shocking.  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  it  Where's  that  other  fellow — Bascom?" 

"  Where  (rriswold  is,  where  Lester  is  where  the  villain  Tarleton  should 
be!" 

"  In  eternity  ?" 

"  Yes." 

The  exquisite  shuddered. 

"  How  their  mothers  will  weep  when  they  hear  of  it!"  he  observed  with  a 
sigh. 

"You  have  a  brave,  considerate,  and  gentle  heart,  Fred!"  exclaimed 
Sprague,  with  an  expression  of  admiration.  "  But  come,  to  horse — Miss 
Winter  is  still  in  danger.  Hark  !" 

He  paused,  as  did  his  companion,  and  listened. 


152  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

There  was  a  din,  as  if  of  conflict ;  a  low  murmuring  roar,  made  up  of  shouts 
and  of  screams,  and  of  sudden  and  irregular  discharges  of  guns,  and  of  heavy 
tramping  of  feet  as  of  many  men  rushing  wildly  to  and  fro,  and  of  the  quick 
echoing  patter  of  hoofs. 

The  two  young  men  exchanged  glances. 

"  'Tis  a  battle  ?"  said  the  exquisite,  inquiringly. 

"Say  rather  'tis  a  surprise,  which  will  soon  terminate  in  a  rout !"  returned 
Sprague,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  knows  more  than  he  tells. 

"  Led  on  "by  whom  ?"  asked  the  exquisite. 

"  By  whom  but  by  him  the  fear  of  whose  night  surprises,  ever  keeps  the 
knag's  troops  in  a  state  of  constant  alarm." 

"  By  him?"  demanded  Crampton,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  a  feverish  anxi- 
ety to  be  gone.  "Bwavo !  We  have  fwends,  then,  and  Miss  Win  tab.  may 
yet  be  saved.  As  for  me,  I  should  like  to  help  punish  her  abductor." 

"  And  as  for  me,"  said  Sprague,  with  animation,  "I  should  like  to  help  drive 
him  and  his  scarlet  pack  from  Kingstree." 

"  Do  you  say  so,  Spwague  ?     To  horse,  then !" 

"  Aye,  to  horse  !" 

With  these  words,  they  sprang  into  their  saddles  and  darted  forward- as  if 
life  and  death  hung  on  the  footsteps  of  their  steeds. 

While  these  incidents  were  transpiring,  Tarleton  urged  on  his  charger  with 
its  double  burden  towards  the  village,  between  himself  and  which  stretched 
a  winding  highroad  of  one  and  a  half  miles. 

Under  ordinary  circumstances,  the  accomplishment  of  this  distance  would 
have  been  an  easy  as  well  a  pleasant  feat  But  in  the  present  instance  Tarle- 
ton found  it  both  difficult  and  painful.  This  arose  from  two  causes :  the 
screams  and  unceasing  struggles  of  Miss  Winter  to  release  herself  from  his 
grasp  and  precipitate  herself  to  the  earth ;  and  the  agony  of  his  wounded  arm 
which  hung  like  a  useless  appendage  by  his  side. 

He  was  therefore  compelled  to  restrain  the  efforts  of  his  fair  prisoner  with 
his  remaining  arm,  and  to  guide  his  steed  with  one  hand.  But  as  this  arm, 
thanks  to  Amy's  energetic  struggles,  was  continually  moving  every  which 
way,  and  as  each  movement  correspondingly  jerked  his  hand,  and  his  hand  the 
bridle  which  it  held,  the  consequence  was  his  horse,  turning  now  to  the  right 
now  to  the  left,  then  in  a  half  circle,  now  in  a  whole  one,  then  bunting  up 
against  a  fence  or  tree  on  the  roadside,  and  then,  following  still  the  pre»ed 
and  jerked  bit,  slewing  around  and  proceeding  back  in  the  direction  from 
whence  he  came,  it  will  easily  be  understood  that  he  made  but  little  progress, 
and  that  his  one  and  a  half  miles  were  more  difficult  to  get  over  than  he  had* 
had  any  idea  of  when  starting. 

Tarleton  spared  neither  roughness  of  language  nor  of  manner  to  persuade 
his  captive  to  cease  her  screams  and  abandon  her  struggles.  But  Amy  closed 
her  ears  to  his  threats,  and  renewed  with  greater  intensity  than  ever  her  cries 
for  help  and  her  efforts  to  free  herself  from  the  grasp  of  her  abductor. 

Tarleton  had  proceeded  about  three  hundred  yards,  when  he  heard,  grow- 
ing more  and  more  distinct  each  moment,  the  hurried  tramp  of  an  advancing 
horseman.  It  was  the  same  which  had  greeted  his  ear  at  the  commencement 
of  his  journey,  but  which  the  excitement  of  the  moment  and  the  agony  of 
his  arm  had  caused  him  to  forget.  Could  it  be  a  friend  ?  He  had  no  reason 
to  hope  so.  If  an  enemy — with  this  thought,  a  sense  of  the  reality  e»f  his 
danger  burst  upon  him.  If  in  a  position  to  defend  himself— that  is  to  say, 
if  his  wound  had  not  rendered  his  sword  arm  useless — he  would  have  cared 
little  for  a  dozen  foes ;  he  would  have  fought  his  way  through  them  all, 
with  a  light  heart  and  a  careless  laugh.  But  now,  incapable  of  wielding  a 
blade,  his  captive  struggling  every  moment  to  free  herself,  and  thereby  pre- 
venting him  from  guiding  and  trusting  to  the  fleetness  of  his  horse  to  save 
mm,  he  felt  that  resistance  would  be  worse  than  idle. 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  153 

Meanwhile,  the  unknown  horseman  approached  nearer  and  more  near. 
A  moment,  and  he  would  be  in  sight,  from  which  only  a  bend  in  the  road 
preserved  him.  Meanwhile,  Amy's  piercing  cries  for  help  startled  both 
horse  and  rider,  maddening  the  first,  and  arousing  all  the  black  blood  of  the 
second. 

"  Curse  you !"  hissed  Tarleton,  through  his  set-teeth.  "  Be  silent,  or  I'll 
violate  you  here  on  the  open  road !  Be  silent,  I  say !" 

Amy  heeded  him  not.  She,  too,  had  heard  tbe  quick  tread  of  the  ad- 
vancing horseman,  and  hope  uprose  before  her. 

At  length  the  bend  was  passed,  and  in  the  clear  moonlight  Tarleton  be- 
held, some  twenty  yards  ahead,  what  appeared  to  his  disturbed  fancy,  a  gi- 
gantic spectre,  mounted  on  a  large  coal-black  steed  of  matchless  symmetry, 
and  approaching  him  in  a  straight  line  with  incredible  swiftness. 

The  horseman,  standing  in  his  stirrups,  held  in  his  right  hand  a  long,  naked 
Wade,  and,  so  straight,  firm  and  motionless  was  his  bearing,  appeared  more 
like  an  avenging  spirit,  than  a  thing  of  flesh  and  blood. 

His  horse,  too,  was  worthy  of  its  strange  rider.  With  the  exception  of  the 
pattering  of  its  hoofs,  there  was  nothing  to  stamp  it  of  earthly  origin.  It  ap- 
proached with  the  speed  of  lightning,  and  the  silence  of  death.  It  did  not 
appear  to  breathe,  and  there  was  none  of  that  energetic  movement  of  the 
muscles,  which  marks  each  spring  of  a  genuine  courser. 

For  a  few  moments,  Tarleton,  naturally  superstitious,  was  seized  with  a 
feeling  of  terror.  Thanks  to  the  bend  in  the  road,  he  did  not  perceive  the 
mysterious  horseman  in  time  to  wheel  and  flee,  or  to  avoid  the  collision 
which  his  captive's  struggling  movements  and  their  corresponding  pre&sure 
upon  his  arm  and  bridle,  now  rendered  inevitable. 

In  his  terror,  his  courage  and  presence  of  mind  vanished.  He  beheld  the 
spectral  horseman  approach  closer  and  more  close  ;  as  the  latter  drew  near, 
he  fancied  he  could  detect  the  sulphurous  odor  which  is  said  to  accompany 
visitants  from  the  shadowy  world.  He  closed  his  eyes  to  shut  out  the 
frightful  vision,  and  imagining  his  death  hour  had  come,  yielded  himself  up 
for  lost. 

At  this  instant,  the  horseman  glided  by,  and  perceiving  no  show  of  resist- 
ance, changed  his  sword  from  his  right  to  his  left  hand,  stretched  out  his 
disengaged  arm,  transferred  the  fair  captive  from  the  colonel's  saddle  to  his 
own,  whispered  a  word  into  her  ear,  which  recalled  her  affrighted  senses, 
caused  her  to  utter  a  cry  of  joy  and  to  throw  her  arms  in  rapturous  emotion 
arownd  the  neck  of  her  deliverer,  and  then  passed  on  in  his  flying  course  with 
apparently  the  same  statue-like  imperturbability  which  had  marked  his  ap- 
proach. 

When  Tarleton  re-opened  his  eyes,  he  was  solemnly  impressed  with  the 
conviction  that  he  had  seen  an  inhabitant  of  the  spirit  world.  He  lived  in 
an  age  when  superstition  counted  its  votaries  by  millions,  when  spectral  ap- 
pearances were  supposed  to  be  not  infrequent,  and  when  all  classes,  from  the 
ermined  monarch  down  to  the  rough  clad  peasant,  were  more  or  less  in- 
fluenced by  an  unshaken  belief  in  visitants  from  the  phantom  world. 

"It  is  a  warning!"  he  muttered,  moodily.  "The  presence  of  an  appari- 
tion is  at  all  times  the  precursor  of  calamity.  Something  fearful  is  about  to 
happen.  Why  did  I  engage  in  this  rash  adventure?  Fool,  dolt,  idiot  that! 
am,  I  am  always  rushing  into  follies,  that  bring  with  them,  for  me  and  mine, 
a  terrible  ending !  But  they  will  shortly  have  an  end — else  why  the  appear- 
ance of  this  spectre.  Hark!'' 

He  raised  himself  in  his  stirrup,  strained  his  eyes  in  the  direction  of  Kings- 
tree,  and  listened. 

A  low,  confused  din,  rising  gradually  into  a  roar,  fell  on  his  ear.  He  was 
too  familiar  with  such  sounds  to  mistake  them. 

"  Did  I  not  say  so?"  he  muttered,  smiting  his  forehead  passionately.  "  Did 
20 


154  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DAYS 

I  not  say  so  ?  A  surprise,  and  I  absent !  I  am  ruined  Lo !  my  calamity  is 
begun!" 

Plunging  his  spurs  into  his  charger's  flanks,  he  dashed  forward,  foaming 
•with  passionate  self-reproach. 

He  had  proceeded  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  when  he  discovered  two 
horsemen  rapidly  approaching  him.  By  the  peculiarity  of  their  costume,  he 
recognized  them  as  friends. 

"  Well  ?"  he  demanded,  as  they  came  within  hearing. 

"  Colonel,"  said  the  foremost,  "  I  have  been  despatched  in  search  of  you. 
We  are  beset,  and  a  large  number  of  our  men  are  cut  to  pieces,  and — " 

"Silence!"  thundered  Tarleton,  foaming  with  passion.  "Who  is  in  com- 
mand?" 

'•  Lieutenant  Davidson." 

"  Back,  and  tell  him  I  am  coming.     Who  is  that  with  you  '?'' 

"  Adjutant  Benedict" 

"  Enough.  Let  him  accompany  me.  As  for  you,  back  and  tell  Lieutenant 
Davidson  I  will  be  with  him  in  five  minutes  after  your  arrival.  Begone !" 

"  I  will  so  report,  sir !"  replied  the  young  officer,  wheeling  his  horse  and 
returning  in  the  direction  whence  he  came. 

"  Adjutant  Benedict,"  said  Tarleton,  as  the  other  approached,  "ride  down 
the  road  till  you  come  to  the  next  house.  You  will  there  find  three  of  your 
superior  officers  engaged  in  a  combat.  Call  them  off  in  my  name,  and  bid 
them  hurry  to  the  rescue.  Despatch,  sir !" 

He  waived  his  hand,  and  then  resumed  his  route. 

The  young  adjutant,  marvelling  at  the  colonel's  desertion  of  his  men  under 
such  circumstances,  hurried  off  to  obey  his  order.  But  he  scarcely  proceeded 
a  hundred  yards,  when,  at  a  bend  in  the  road,  he  suddenly  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  two  armed  horsemen. 

"Loyalists  or  rebels?"  he  demanded  as  he  unsheathed  his  weapon,  in  no 
wise  daunted  by  the  odds  against  him. 

"Rebels  to  the  king,  loyalists  to  the  American  Congress!"  shouted  the 
foremost  rider  in  a  tone  that  made  the  officer  start 

"Ha!  I  know  that  voice,"  he  exclaimed,  somewhat  disturbed;  "but  I 
was  not  aware  before  that  it  belonged  to  a  rebel  As  for  me,  I  am  a  servant 
of  the  king.  •  Come  on!" 

"Thank  you!"  returned  the  other.  "I  accept  your  invitation.  Stand 
back,  Fred.  One  against  one  is  quite  enough  !" 

'•'  Vewy  good,"  returned  his  companion  quietly. 

Sprague — the  reader  has  already  guessed  it — pressed  energetically  upon 
the  young  officer,  and  after  a  few  passes  disarmed  him. 

"  You  are  my  prisoner !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Come,  sir — turn  your  horse's 
head.  There  is  not'  a  moment  to  lose.  Fall  in,  Fred.  We  are  wanted  at 
Kingstree." 

The  adjutant,  confused  at  the  suddenness,  and  humiliated  at  the  result  of 
the  incident,  complied  with  this  order,  uttering  at  the  same  time  a  deep  sigh. 
In  another  moment,  the  trio  were  moving  'at  a  brisk  pace  toward  the  vil- 
lage, 

"You  look  dejected,  sir,"  observed  Sprague,  kindly.  "But  cheer  up — 
your  position  is  only  one  of  the  chances  of  war." 

"I  am  not  thinking  of  myself,"  returned  the  adjutant,  "  but  of  the  effect 
my  capture  may  have  upon  those  whom  I  was  ordered  to  look  up." 

"If  you  allude  to  the  three  accomplices  whom  Colonel  Tarleton  left  be- 
hind him,  I  can  ease  your  mind  at  once.  They,  have  rant  the  fate  their 
crime  provoked." 

"  Their  crime,  sir  ?"  returned  the  adjutant,  drawing  himself  up. 

"  Yes,  their  crime !     Is  it  too  harsh  a  term  to  apply  to  men  who  volunta- 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  155 

rfly  engage  in  the  forcible  abduction  of  a  young  lady,  to  gratify  the  lust  of  a 
heartless  libertine  ?" 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  the  adjutant.  '•  I  was  not  aware  of  that  This,  then, 
was  Colonel  Tarleton's  errand  down  here  to-night  ?" 

"  That,  and  no  other,  as  I  am  a  Christian !"  answered  Sprague. 

"  Then  shame  upon  him !"  exclaimed  the  young  officer,  indignantly.  "  Oh, 
I  shall  never  be  able  to  treat  him  with  the  respect  due  to  my  commander, 
again  !  I  blush  for  him — I  blush  for  our  army,  which  has  such  men  for  its 
leaders — I  blush  at  myself,  for  my  connexion  with  such  a  man  for  my  supe- 
rior. It  is  humiliating !  And  his  accomplices,  you  say — " 

"  Are  now  in  the  presence  of  their  God !"  said  Sprague,  solemnly. 

The  adjutant  shuddered. 

"  Their  names  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Bascomb,  Lester  and  Griswold." 

"  What !  the  best  officers  of  our  regiment !  Oh,  Tarleton — Tarleton ! 
•what  excuse  can  you  offer  for  the  ignoble  end  to  which  your  brutal  lust  has 
consigned  these  brave  men.  Shame  upon  you — shame  upon  you !" 

"  You  are  an  honest  man,  sir !"  said  Sprague,  warmly,  "  and  as  such  I  now 
restore  you  to  liberty.  Take  back  your  sword,  sir  !" 

The  officer  received  it  with  a  low  bow,  and  in  a  voice  agitated  with  emo- 
tion, returned  his  thanks. 

They  were  now  within  a  short  distance  of  the  village,  which  was  in  a 
stormy  commotion. 

'•'  Here  let  us  part,  sir  !"  said  Sprague,  extending  his  hand  to  the  adjutant. 
"  You  have  a  better  heart  than  I  supposed  to  be  in  the  British  army.  It 
would  give  me  great  pleasure  to  see  you  engaged  in  a  nobler  service." 

"  Do  not,"  he  said,  with  a  quivering  lip,  "  wound  me  with  an  insult  which 
gratitude  forbids  me  to  resent !  I  am  an  Englishman,  and  regard  the  king's 
service  as  the  highest  on  earth." 

"  I  respect  your  opinion,  sir,  and  bow  to  the  justness  of  your  reproof,"  re- 
turned Sprague,  tranquilly.  "  Shak,e  hands,  sir.  "  Adieu !" 

And  they  parted. 

They  were  soon  at  the  head  of  the  road.  They  paused  for  a  few  moments 
to  survey  the  scene  before  them. 

Riot,  terror,  uproar  and  confusion  reigned  throughout  the  village.  Squads 
of  half-dressed  soldiery,  some  with  .and  many  without  arms,  were  flying  in 
every  direction ;  some  making  for  the  green,  some  for  -the  dwellings  and 
fences,  and  others  for  the  roads  and  fields. 

Scattered  over  the  ground,  'solitarily  and  in  heaps,  lay  scores  shrieking  with 
agonizing  wounds,  or  stark  and  pale  in  death. 

The  air,  thick  with  smoke,  rang  with  the  roar  of  musketry  and  the  din  of 
steel. 

Here  was  a  brawny  woodsman  coolly  aiming  at  a  flying  trooper ;  there 
another,  with  clubbed  weapon,  braining  one  after  another  three  or  four 
panic  stricken  wretches  who  were  flying  confusedly  before  him.  At  another 
point  might  be  seen  three  or  four  horsemen  pursuing,  with  raised  blades, 
half  a  score  or  more,  and  sternly  cleaving  to  the  shoulder  all  with  whom 
they  came  in  contact ;  at  another,  thirty  or  forty  riflemen  pouring  in 
a  deadly  fire  upon  a  body  of  troops  flying  pell  mell  before  them ;  at  still  an- 
other, a  hundred  or  more  of  fierce<-browed  rangers,  led  on  by  the  tall,  stal- 
wart form  of  our  old  friend  the  scalp  hunter,  charging  with  resistless  impetu- 
osity a  scattered  mass  of  troops  who  vainly  strove  to  hold  their  ground 
against  their  fierce  assailants ;  while  upon  the  green  could  be  discerned,  de- 
spite the  smoke  of  conflict,  the  small,  slender  but  wiry  form  of  Marion 
mounted  on  a  bold,  powerful  roau.  and  directing  the  fierce  onsets  and  sweep- 
ing charges  of  two  hundred  iron  willed  riflemen  against  a  force  double  his 
own,  commanded  by  the  dashing  and  impetuous  Tarleton. 


156  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DATS 

While  Sprague'  and  the  exquisite  were  thus  taking  a  hurried  survey  of  the 
exciting  scene  before  them,  they  were  suddedly  startled  by  a  loud  voice 
with  the  inquiry : 

"Gentlemen,  America  needs  the  help  of  all  her  friends  to-night!  Are  ye 
for  her  with  your  swords,  as  with  your  hearts?" 

It  was  the  voice  of  Somers. 

"  Lead  on,  sir !"  responded  Sprague. 

"Lead  on,  sir — I  am  weady!"  answered  the  exquisite. 

"  Ho,  there,  hold  up  !"  shouted  the  planter,  in  a  clear,  ringing  tone,  to  a 
body  of  rangers  in  pursuit  of  a  panic  stricken  party  of  troops  flying  towards 
the  town  house ;  ^'  ye  are  wanted  on  the  green.  Follow  me !" 

And  setting  himself  at  their  head,  he  rushed  forward  with  a  loud  shoutj 
gallantly  followed  by  his  men. 

By  this  time  the  scalp  hunter  had  succeeded  in  scattering  the  troops  with 
whom  he  had  been  engaged,  and  calling  off  his  rangers  from  the  pursuit,  he 
reformed  them,  and  marched  forward  to  the  relief  of  Marion. 

The  latter  was  already  on  the  point  of  victory,  and  this  reinforcement, 
coupled  with  that  of  the  planter,  quickly  decided  it. 

Tarleton,  unable  longer  to  hold  out,  gave  the  order  for  retreat,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  the  royal  troops  were  flying  with  all  speed  from  the  Tillage,  and 
by  the  same  road  by  which  they  had  entered  it  but  three  days  before. 

The  surprise  was  triumphant  and  complete.  Calling  off  his  men  from  the 
pursuit,  gathering  together  the  prisoners,  arms,  ammunition  and  stores  which 
had  fallen  into  his  hands,  Marion  encamped  on  the  green  for  the  remainder 
of  the  night ;  and  at  day  break  of  the  following  morning  quietly  returned  to 
his  head-quarters  at  Snow's  Island,  as  much  for  the  purpose  of  security  as  to 
indulge  his  exhausted  followers  in  a  day  or  two  of  tranquil  repose. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

SNOW'S  ISLAND,  better  known  by  its  traditionary  name  of  the  camp  of 
Marion,  lay  at  the  confluence  of  Lynch's  Creek  and  the  Pedee  River.  Though 
of  no  great  magnitude,  Snow's  Island  was  yet  spacious,  romantic,  pictur- 
esque and  imposing.  It  was  surrounded  by  a  deep  swamp,  leading  to  a  vast 
and  almost  impenetrable  cane  brake,  through  which  an  army  would  find  it 
extremely  difficult  and  dangerous  to  pass.  Beyond  the  canes,  on  the  rising 
grounds,  loomed  up  a  thick  forest  of  massive  pines,  towering  cypress  and 
stately  laurel,  whose  contiguous  trunks  and  interlacing  limbs  formed  a  con- 
tinuous natural  belt,  guarding  the  approaches  to  the  interior  of  the  island  like 
an  immense  wall.  Here  and  there  the  forest  border  was  broken  by  deep 
gullies  and  dark  ravines,  whose  jagged  sides  were  covered  by  thick  mosses 
and  creeping  briars,  and  in  the  shadows  of  whose  broken  and  cavernous 
ledges  lay  sleepless  sentinels,  the  long,  black  tubes  of  whose  unerring  rifles 
might  be  seen  peeping  through  the  clambering  vines. 

On  the  tops  of  the  skirting  trees,  and  concealed  amid  the  branches,  look- 
outs were  stationed,  to  give  warning  of  the  approach  of  friend  or  enemy. 

Breaking  through,  the  wood  and  underbrush,  for  a  distance  of  about  a 
hundred  yards,  you  fall  suddenly  into  a  large,  level  plain,  marked  here  and 
there  with  small  patches  of  Indian  corn,  beds  of  sweet  potatoes,  and  now  and 
then  a  solitary  and  majestic  cypress.  Guarding  it  on  all  sides,  rise  one  above 
the  other,  continuous  lines  of  towering  timber,  giving  to  the  long,  broad  plain, 
the  aspect  of  a  vast  natural  amphitheatre. 

Scattered  here  and  there  are  rude  tents,  formed  of  saplings  and  beechen 
bark.  Lying  at  the  foot  of  R  shady  tree  behold  a  ragged,  bare  foot,  gaunt^ 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  167 

but  active  and  vigorous  borderer,  his  hand  upon  the  barrel  of  his  rifle  even  in 
his  moments  of  slumber.  A  short  distance  from  this  tired  and  worn-out 
sleeper  are  a  group  of  six  or  eight,  ragged  and  gaunt  as  himself,  seated  around 
a  ground  fire,  roasting  corn  and  potatoes,  their  only  food,  and  talking  over 
their  latest  adventures.  Not  far  off  from  these,  behold  some  forty  or  fifty 
men,  in  the  rough,  uncouth  garb  of  borderers,  ploughmen  and  woodsmen,  in- 
dulging in  rude  sports  and  trials  of  muscle,  suppleness  and  speed.  Afar  oflj 
we  find  old  warriors  drilling  and  exercising  squads  of  new  recruits.  Others 
are  hoeing  the  corn  and  potato  patches  with  assiduous  care.  Rifles  are  lean- 
ing against  the  straggling  trees,  sabres  and  rapiers  depending  from  their 
boughs.  Here  and  there  is  a  rough,  powerful  woodsman  cleaning  the  lock, 
and  otherwise  overhauling  his  trusty  weapon  and  preparing  it  for  future  use. 
Steeds  are  browsing  in  the  shade,  their  bits  loosened,  and  the  saddle  still  on 
their  backs,  ready  to  be  strapped  at  a  moment's  warning,  and  to  start  at  the 
first  shrill  peal  of  the  bugle.  Through  the  openings  of  the  rude  tents  may  be 
seen  here  a  borderer  sewing  up  the  rent  made  in  the  last  sortie,  there  a  rag- 
ged, half  naked  ploughman  rivetting  the  crazy  handle  of  his  hacked  sabre, 
and  joking  with  another  who  is  vainly  laboring  to  peg  up  the  uppers  of  his 
worn-out  shoes  which  let  in  daylight  as  well  as  water  on  his  toes.  At  the 
foot  of  a  tree,  wrapped  up  in  his  blanket,  we  see  a  poor,  miserable,  squalid, 
half  famished  wretch,  striving  to  forget  his  country's  sufferings  and  his 
own  in  the  lethe  of,  repose. 

This  was  the  camp  of  Marion. 

About  three  weeks  after  the  incidents  related  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
three  persons  were  seated  before  a  small  oblong  table  in  the  beechen  tent  of 
Marion,  which  had  nothing  to  distinguish  it  from  those  around,  except  a  rag- 
ged flag  floating  above  its  top. 

The  parties  in  the  tent,  were  General  Marion,  Somers,  and  Nat,  the  scalp 
hunter. 

"  I  have  sent  for  you,  gentlemen,"  began  the  general,  throwing  his  deep, 
thoughtful  eyes  upon  his  auditors  with  an  impressive  air,  "  to  lay  before  you 
a  few  important  facts,  and  to  get  your  views  upon  them." 

The  planter  and  scalp  hunter  bowed. 

"  That  you  may  better  understand,  gentlemen,  what  I  am  about  to  ask 
your  counsel  upon,  I  will  first  state  my  position.  I  am,  as  you  are  aware,  a 
mere  partisan,  battling  with  such  humble  energies  as  I  can  call  into  action, 
for  the  benefit  of  my  poor,  bleeding  country.  I  am  in  the  field,  not  for  fame, 
nor  yet  for  money,  but  for  the  cause  of  humanity.  Nominally  in  the  service 
of  Congress,  in  reality  I  am  in  my  own.  Not  a  man  in  my  regiment,  looks 
for  any  other  reward  for  his  services,  except  that  which  arises  from  the  con- 
sciousness of  having  performed  his  duty  in  his  efforts  to  emancipate  his 
country  from  the  unscrupulous  rule  of  a  brutal  and  unscrupulous  tyrant  I 
am  more  in  the  service  of  Carolina  than  in  that  of  Congress ;  and  I  prefer  the 
service  of  our  province,  as  it  leaves  me  at  perfect  liberty  to  choose  my  own 
men,  my  own  mode  of  fighting,  and  my  own  battle  grounds.  Still,  as  the 
success  of  Congress  is  our  success,  as  its  failure  is  also  our  failure,  I  owe  a 
certain  allegiance  to  Congress,  which,  as  an  American  soldier  battling  for 
America,  I  cannot  shake  off,  and  would  not  if  I  could." 

He  paused,  bowed  his  pale  brow  for  a  moment  or  two  upon  his  hands,  and 
then  resumed. 

"  The  struggle  between  the  colonies  and  the  mother  country,  has  been  a 
long  and  trying  one ;  and  there  is  every  prospect  of  its  continuance  till  one 
of  two  things  shall  happen — the  destruction  of  the  small  army  of  Congress,  or 
that  of  the  greater  one  of  the  king.  The  chances  are  unquestionably  with 
the  royal  party,  which  outnumbers  ours  five  to  one ;  and  which  instead  of 
decreasing,  notwithstanding  its  numerous  defeats,  is  continually  being 
strengthened  and  invigorated  by  tories  from  our  own  shores,  and  by  fresh 


158  THE    SWAMP    STEED  j    OR    THE    DAYS 

accessions  from  abroad.  Ours,  on  the  contrary,  grows  smaller  and  smaller 
day  by  day,  partly  through  desertion,  partly  through  battle,  but  more  through 
want  of  arms,  ammunition,  clothing,  provisions  and  money,  which  the  enemy 
has  in  abundance." 

"  "We  must  snake  'em  from  him,  gineral !"  answered  the  scalp  hunter,  im- 
patiently. 

Marion  smiled. 

"  We'll  come  to  that  by  and  bye,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  To  prevent,  then, 
the  cause,  in  which  we  all  hare  an  abiding  interest,  from  falling  to  the 
ground,  we  must  give  it  a  fresh  interest  by  fresh  victories,  and  these  victo- 
ries must  be  decisive ;  to  save  our  small  army  in  the  South  from  being  cut 
up  and  destroyed  in  detail,  our  scattered  forces  must  be  united,  and  our  bat- 
tles, triumphs ;  to  re-invigorate  the  hopes  and  hearts  of  our  troops,  who  are 
now  sunk  in  mental  despondency  because  their  feet  are  without  shoes,  their 
stomachs  scarcely  ever  filled,  and  their  bodies  clad  in  rags,  we  must  feed  and 
clothe  them,  so  their  hopes  and  hearts  and  their  wandering,  wavering  con- 
fidence, may  come  back  to  them.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  will  the  cloud  that 
so  long  has  hovered  over  us,  pass  away." 

The  planter  bowed  his  head  thoughtfully  in  the  palms  of  his  raised  hands. 
The  scalp  hunter,  unconsciously  to  himself,  began  to  play  with  the  horned 
handle  of  his  long  knife,  and  to  examine,  with  a  critical  eye  and  feel,  the  edge 
and  temper  of  its  blade. 

Marion  observed  them  both,  quietly. 

"My  own  men,"  he  continued,  "are  very,  very  poor!  They  fight  neither 
for  money  nor  fame — but  for  their  country.  They  are  keen,  brave,  patient, 
tried  and  enduring  men.  Privation  and  suffering  they  heed  not ;  danger, 
affliction,  death,  touches  them  not,  so  long  as  hope  clings  to  THE  CAUSE.  They 
are  able  and  willing  to  go  on,  but  they  are  poor.  They  cannot  be  always 
with  me,  they  cannot  be  always  in  the  field  ;  their  farms,  or  rather  I  should 
say  their  families,  require  them  during  the  planting  and  harvesting  seasons 
of  the  year.  It  was  but  yesterday,  as  you  know,  when  fifty  of  our  best  ran- 
gers were  compelled  to  leave  us  for  a  time,  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  their 
families ;  and  thirty  more  obtained  leave  for  the  same  purpose  to-day.  They 
are  poor,  their  wives  and  children  suffering  for  food  and  raiment,  and  they 
had  to  go  and  provide  for  them ;  to  earn  bread  and  garments  for  them  as 
well  as  for  themselves ;  and  forty  others,  our  best,  bravest  and  trustiest  men, 
desire  to  start  to-morrow.  Their  families  need  them — their  families  that  are 
suffering,  famishing,  dying  with  want !" 

Tears  were  trickling  through  the  planter's  fingers,  though  all  unknown  to 
him. 

The  scalp  hunter's  eyes  were  moist,  and  his  coarse,  rough  hands  trembled 
as  they  toyed  with  the  long,  sharp  knife. 

"  These  men,  at  least  the  most  of  them,"  continued  Marion,  '•'  will  all  come 
back  when  they  have  made  a  temporary  provision  for  thier  families  and  them- 
selves— their  poverty  will  not  permit  them  to  return  before.  Meanwhile, 
through  their  absence,  what  chances  to  drive  the  British  squadrons  from  our 
province,  will  be  lost,  what  opportunities  for  cutting  off  provisions,  arms  and 
ammunition  from  reaching  the  foe.  will  have  to  pass  unheeded ;  what  de- 
feats will  the  few  who  remain  with  us  have  to  endure,  for  want  of  sufficient 
companions  to  convert  them  into  triumphs?  My  heart,  gentlemen — my 
heart  bleeds  to  think  of  it!'' 

"  You  have  not  told  us  all,  general '?"  said  the  planter,  looking  up ;  his  eyes 
red  with  weeping,  his  cheeks  pale  with  anguish. 

"No,"  said  Marion,  with  an  air  of  deep  agony.  ;'I  have  not  told  you  all 
The  worst  is  yet  to  come.  Listen.  As  we  have  gone  on  for  years,  as 'we 
are  going  on  now,  so  we  will  go  on  for  years  to  come,  unless  some  thing  de- 
cisive be  done  to  relieve  the  sufferings  of  our  men,  and  to  preserve  them 


m 

from  the  necessity  of  leaving  us  se  frequently  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  their 
families.  General  Green  requests  me  to  form  a  junction  with  him  and  Sump- 
ter,  so  that  our  united  forces  may  this  year  drive  the  British  from  Carolina 
and  the  South.  But  what  junction  can  I  form  with  him,  even  for  so  essen- 
tial and  important  a  step,  when  my  rangers  are  scattered — the  plough  in 
their  hand  instead  of  the  rifle !  And  yet,  as  you  see,  gentlemen,  something 
like  this  must  be  done,  or  our  struggles  in  the  past  and  in  the  present,  as  weD 
as  those  which  are  to  come,  will  be  for  naught.  And  yet  again,  gentlemen," 
he  added,  in  a  voice  which  trembled  with  emotion,  "  to  do  this,  to  prepare 
for  this,  we  must  have — money !" 

"  You  have  a  plan  ?"  said  the  planter,  inquiringly. 

"  Ef  yew  hev,  gineral,"  added  the  scalp  hunter,  in  a  tone  of  deep  feeling, 
"put  us  on  the  trail,  an'  we'll  run  down  the  varmint  quicker  n  chain 
lightnin' !" 

"I  have  a  plan,"  returned  Marion,  slowly,  "but  it  is  attended  with  the 
deepest  danger." 

"  We  ain't  of  the  skeery  breed,  gineral!"  observed  the  scalp  hunter.  "An' 
ef  it's  in  keepin'  with  your  idee  to  let  us  inter  it,  the  camp  wun't  long  be 
without  a  full  compliment  of  rangers." 

"  I  was  sure  of  your  co-operation  in  my  design,  gentlemen,"  returned  Ma- 
rion, "  or  I  had  not  asked  you  to  this  conference.  To  prove  the  unlimited 
confidence  I  repose  in  you,  I  despatched  a  note  to  General  Geeen  ten  min- 
utes after  I  received  his  letter,  informing  him  of  my  acceptance  of  his  pro- 
posal to  unite  our  forces,  and  pledging  myself  to  bring  with  me  every  man  of 
my  brigade." 

"That  was  doin'  the  hanusvun  thing,  gineral!"  observed  the  scalp  hunter, 
with  an  animated  smile. 

"  It  was  trusting  your  honor  in  our  humble  hands  !"  exclaimed  the  planter, 
with  emotion. 

"  Ah !  gentlemen,"  returned  Marion  with  an  air  of  confidence  which  was 
wholly  sublime,  "  have  you  not  had  it,  together  with  my  life,  in  your  pos- 
session, from  the  first  hour  of  our  struggle  ?  And  should  I  meanly  with- 
draw it  from  you  now  ?" 

The  planter  and  his  comrade  burst  into  tears. 
"  Command  us!''  they  cried,  simultaneously. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Marion,  In  a  broken  voice,  "  I  will  confess  that  this 
new  evidence  of  your  heroic  devotion,  does  not  surprise  me.  Knowing  the 
purity  of  your 'patriotism,  the  unfaltering  character  of  your  courage,  the  fer- 
vency of  your  friendship,  your  elevating  sense  of  honor,  I  looked  lor  it,  and 
thought  myself  prepared  for  it.  But  yet,  now  that  it  is  here,  now  that  it  is 
no  longer  an  anticipation  but  a  reality,  I  must  acknowledge,  and  I  do  it  free- 
ly, that  it  makes  me  tremble,  that  it  shakes  my  soul.  For  it  is  danger  great 
danger,  to  which  I  am  about  to  expose  It.  It  may  be  that  death — do  you 
hear  me,  my  friends— death  ? — shall  be  the  reward  of  it — death  V' 

"Ef  it  be  fifty,"  cried  the  scalp  hunter,  "let  'em  cum!  I'm  in  the  cause 
to  the  last  hair  in  my  scalp.  An'  ef  I  cave  in,  the  red  coat  varmint  will 
smell  pisin  afore  I  drop !" 

"As  for  me,  General,"  said  the  planter,  with  an  air  of  solemn  grandeur,  "  I 
have  already  consecrated  my  arm,  my  sword,  my  energies,  my  life  if  it  need 
be,  to  my  country.  I  am  ready  to  redeem  my  pledge  1 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Marion,  with  a  trembling  lip,  "  I  will  no  longer  keep 
from  you  the  secret  mission  which  our  suffering  country  calls  upon  you  to 
take  up.     Listen,  gentlemen." 
"  We  listen." 

"  Gentlemen,  the  city  of  Charleston  is  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy — that 
enemy  who  shows  no  mercy  to  rebels,  who  has  for  every  American  that 
falls  into  his  hands  nothing  but  a  bullet  or  a  cord  1" 


160  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR   THE    DAYS 

"  We  care  not  for  the  bullet,"  said  the  planter,  firmly,  for  himself  and  his 
companion,  "  we  care  not  for  the  cord !" 

"  Gentlemen,  in  Charleston,  there  are  spies  at  every  hand,  to  watch  and 
give  up  every  rebel  who  dares  to  show  himself  within  the  city's  ward." 

"  We  care  not  for  the  spies — we  will  baffle  them !" 

"  Within  the  city's  ward  are  framed  the  plans  for  the  subjugation  of  Caroli- 
nia  and  the  south.  It  is  necessary  that  you  go  to  Charleston,  incur  the  risk 
of  detection  and  of  death,  learn  the  strength  of  the  British  force  as  well  as 
their  designs,  and  transmit  it  on  to  me,  that  I  may  again  despatch  it  to  Gen- 
eral  Green,  who  will  take  his  measures  accordingly." 

"  We  will  go  to  Charleston!" 

"  Gentlemen,  it  is  at  Charleston  where  lie  the  resources  which  we  so  much 
need,  and  which  enable  the  enemy  to  continue  this  harrassing  and  ruinous 
•war." 

"You  shall  have  a  portion  of  those  resources,  general,  I  promise  it !" 

"And  I,  gineral,"  said  the  scalp  hunter,  "  I  gurantee  that  the  British  wunt 
do  much  with  what's  left  The  varmint  hev  had  'em  long  enuff — a  cussed 
sight  longer  than  they'll  ever  hev  'em  agin!" 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Marion,  with  emotion,  "  I  accept  your  promise.  And 
now,  remember  two  things,  all  important — secresy  and  despatch!'1 

"  We  shall  not  forget" 

"  The  destiny  of  our  country  hangs,  perhaps,  in  your  hands — remember 
that.  Go  now,  my  friends,  my  companions !  and  make  ready  for  your  jour- 
ney !'' 

"  A  word,  general,"  said  the  planter. 

"  Speak,  my  friend." 

"I  received  to-day  a  letter  from  my  tender  parent  She  is  nervous  and 
unhappy.  Her  loneliness  is  killing  her." 

"  In  view  of  which,"  said  Marion,  sympathizingly,  "  you  have  a  favor  to 

"Yes,  general." 

"  Name  it,  my  friend." 

"  The  privilege  of  conveying  her  where  she  will  be  lonely  no  longer,  and 
of  leaving  her  with  those  who  will  console  her  for  my  absence." 

"'Tis  granted,  sir,"  returned  Marion;  "for  well  I  know  you  will  not  let 
it  interfere  unnecessarily  with  the  important  mission  in  your  hands." 

"  Be  assured  of  that,  general !" 

"  I  am  assured  of  it  And  now,  gentlemen,  adieu !  'The  God  of  freedom 
and  humanity  watch  over  and  protect  you !" 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

LET  us  now,  reader,  step  across  the  country,  ascend  one  of  the  high,  forest 
crowned  hills  on  the  margin  of  the  Santee,  and  look  in  upon  the  small  plan- 
tation of  the  twin  brothers. 

It  was  at  the  close  of  a  fine  summer's  day ;  the  twins,  having  finished 
their  day's  labor,  and  partaken  of  their  evening  meal,  were  resting  tranquilly 
from  their  toil,  inhaling  the  cool,  reviving  air,  and  conversing  with  their 
friendly  purveyor,  instructor  and  companion,  Ned  Mowizon,  to  whom  they 
cad  long  since  become  most  tenderly  attached.  1- 

A  pleasing  change  was  visible  in  their  appearance,  Though  not  much 
taller  than  when  we  last  beheld  them,  they  had  yet  a  more  manly  air ;  they 
were  broader  in  the  shoulder,  and  deeper  in  the  chest ;  and  though  still  some- 
what slender  in  figure,  there  was  an  aspect  of  suppleness  and  muscle  in  their 


OP   MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  161 

wiry  frames  which  would  make  even  a  burly  borderer  pause  and  reflect  ere 
he  decided  to  measure  strength  with  them.  Their  former  freshness  of  com- 
plexion had  given  place  to  a  fine,  healthy  bronze.  Their  large,  blue  eyes  were 
clear,  steady  and  bold  as  an  eagle's.  Their  general  appearance  was  that  of 
brave,  vigorous,  healthy,  modest,  clear-headed  mountaineers. 

Like  their  companion,  Ned  Mowizon,  they  were  dressed  in  blue  cloth  vest 
and  breeches,  cut  in  the  quaker  fashion  of  that  day,  and  each  was  seated 
upon  a  rustic  chair  on  the  small  lawn  facing  their  cosy  lodge. 

"Ned,"  began  Frederick,  surveying  the  field  before  them,  with  an  air  of 
satisfaction,  "  the  rice  looks  up  as  if  it  appreciated  our  labors.  Our  brother 
will  be  pleased  when  he  arrives!" 

"  Unquestionably,"  answered  Ned.  "  He  could  not  be  otherwise.  I  say 
H,  and  I'll  stick  to  it." 

"  You  really  think  so,  Ned  ?"  asked  the  twins,  eagerly. 

"  I  do,  boys,"  returned  Mowizon,  "  and  I'll  stand  to  it.     And  what  is  more, 
I'm  not  the  only  man  of  that  opinion.     When  he  was  here,  last — " 
' "  He  !"  interrupted  the  twins  reproachfully.     "  Oh,  Ned  !" 

"  Mr.  Somers,  I  mean — he  said  it  was  equal  to  the  best  on  his  plantation." 

"He  said  that!"  cried  Frederick,  with  an  expression  of  joyous  pride. 

"He  paid  us  that  compliment?"  inquired  George,  as  if  he  could  scarcely 
credit  his  senses. 

"He  did,"  answered  Mowizon.  gravely.  '-'And  that  isn't  all,  either.  He 
added  that  it  was  snperior." 

"  Oh,  Ned— Ned !"  cried  the  twins,  incredulously. 

"  I  mean  it !"  observed  Mowizon,  with  an  air  of  firmness,  "  and  I'll  stand  to 
HI" 

•'  You  do  ?" 

"  I  do !     Every  word  of  it !'' 

The  twins  were  ready  to  weep 'for  joy. 

"  Now,  boys,"  pursued  Mowizon,  gravely,  "  when  a  man  like  him — " 

"  Him !"  interrupted  the  twins,  reproachfully. 

"  Like  Neil  Somers,  I  mean — delivers  an  opinion  like  that,  there  must  be 
good  grounds  for  it." 

"  Exactly  !"  cried  Frederick. 

"  Precisely  1"  observed  George. 

"And  for  two  reasons,  boys,"  continued  Mowizon.  "In  the  first  place, 
Mr.  Somers  never  asserts  anything  that  is  not  unqualifiedly  true ;  and  in  the 
second  place,  I  say  it,  and  I'll  stand  to  it,  he  is  the  finest  planter  as  well  as 
most  accurate  judge  in  such  matters,  there  is  in  the  province." 

"There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that!"  observed  Frederick,  wh«  had  the  most 
unlimited  faith  in  his  brother. 

"  None  at  all ! '  added  George,  who  regarded  Neil  with  an  affection  bor- 
dering on  idolatry.  " Have  we  not  seen  his  fields?" 

"  That  is  true,  boys,"  said  Mowizon,  "  but  then  it  was  in  the  night  time, 
and  when,  accompanied  by  your  elder  brother,  you  had  previously  been  look- 
ing upon  your  tender  hearted  parent" 

"Who,"  observed  Frederick,  with  a  sigh,  "unconscious  we  were  so  near, 
was,  doubtless,  dreaming  of  us." 

"  As  we,  in  our  slumbers,  never  fail  to  dream  of  her !"  added  George,  rev- 
erently. 

"  Exactly,"  remarked  Ned,  with  an  approving  nod.  "  As  I  was  saying, 
boys,  you  have  seen  Neil  Somers'  fields,  but  then  it  was  by  moonlight  only, 
and  after  your  eyes  had  first  been  brought  to  take  a  generous  view  of  every 
thing  by  the  pleasing  sight  of  your  dear  mother's  face.  Then,  all  things  would 
naturally  appear  fair  and  lovely.  But  it  is  in  the  day  time  that  you  should 
look  upon  Neil  Somers'  rice  fields;  in  the  day  time,"  he  repeated,  impres- 
sively, "  when  the  light  is  clear,  and  no  extraneous  circumstaaces  interfere  to 
21 


162  THE   SWAMP   STEED  J    OR   THE   DATS 

warp  your  judgment,  or  lend  a  pair  of  golden  spectacles  to  your  eyes.  Then, 
boys,  you  would,  indeed,  be  amazed  at  the  universal  evidences  of  care, 
watchfulness,  industry  and,  I  might  add,  genius  bestowed  on  every  foot  of 
his  plantation,  which,  with  the  exception  of  our  little  one  up  here,  hasn't  got 
its  equal  any  where.  I  say  it,  and  I'll  stand  to  it" 

"But,  Ned,"  ventured  Frederick,  with  a  sigh,  "we  shall  not  be  able  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  looking  on  our  brother's  fields  in  the  daylight,  for  a  good 
long  while  to  come !" 

"  Not  till  he  is  satisfied  of  our  thorough  reform,  as  well  as  of  our  love  of 
industry,"  added  George. 

i'  Exactly,"  rejoined  Ned.  "  But,  between  ourselves,  boys,  I've  a  notion  it 
won't  be  so  very  long  a  time,  either!" 

"  Oh,  Ned  I  are  you  not  playing  with  us,  now  ?"  asked  Frederick,  with  an 
imploring  air. 

"Do  tell  us  that,  Ned!"  added  George,  drawing  his  chair,  as  did  his 
brother,  nearer  to  him. 

" Not  a  bit,"  answered  Mowizon,  gravely.  "lam  not  the  man- to  trifle 
with  my  friends.  What  I  say,  I  stand  to,  because  what  I  say,  I  mean." 

"We  have  always  found  you  true,  Ned!"  said  Frederick,  affectionately. 

"  Always,  Ned !"  added  George. 

"  And  you  ever  will,  boys,''  said  Mowizon,  "  because  you  see  I've  learned 
to  look  on  you  as  brothers.  We've  been  together  here  a  long  time,  working 
on  the  same  grounds,  eating  at  the  lame  table,  reading  from  the  same  books, 
singing  the  same  songs  and  hymns,  and  sleeping  under  the  same  roof.  What 
wonder  then,  I  should  love  you  like  brothers,  what  wonder  I  should  be  true ! 
Boys,"  he  added,  with  emotion,  "  Neil  Somers  has  been  a  good  and  noble 
friend  to  me  and  mine,  although  he  is  not  the  man  to  brag  of  it.  When  my 
poor  old  parents  were  burned  out  of  house  and  home  by  the  Indians,  he  was 
the  man  who  stepped  forward  of  his  own  free  will  and  set  'em  on  their  legs ; 
and  when,  afterwards,  by  the  failure  of  their  crops,  they  again  fell  into  dis- 
tress, he,  and  he  only,  gave  them  the  lifting  hand  which  enabled  'em  to  wade 
through  misfortune's  sea,  and  come  out  with  a  smile.  Is  it  to  be  wondered 
at,  then,  that  I  should  regard  him  with  feelings  of  gratitude  and  respect ;  or, 
that  I  should  be  true  and  good  to  you,  who,  besides  being  my  pupils,  as  I 
may  call  you,  are,  at  the  same  time,  the  blood-born  brothers  of  him  who  has 
done  so  much  for  me  and  mine.  Boys,  I  say  it,  and  I'll  stand  to  it,  you  will 
always  find  Ned  Mowizon  true  to  you  as  steel!" 

"We  believe  that,  Ned !"  said  Frederick. 

"  Firmly !"  added  George. 

"  And  you  may  count  on  it,"  said  Ned,  returning  the  pressure  of  their 
hands.  "But,  as  I  was  saying,  boys,  I  don't  think  it  will  be  very,  very  long, 
before  you  are  permitted  to  look  on  Neil's  plantation  by  the  light  of  day.  In 
fact,"  he  added,  in  a  lower  voice  than  he  had  yet  used,  "  I've  understood  as 
much." 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  Ned !"  cried  the  twins,  in  a  breath. 

"You  see,  boys,"  said  Mowizon,  confidentially,  "but  it  is  a  secret,  mind — " 

"Oh!  yes." 

"  Neil  is  now  satisfied,  and  has  been  for  some  time,  that  you  have  lost  all 
desire  for  your  old,  wicked  habits — " 

The  twins  blushed  and  dropped  their  eyes  upon  the  ground. 

"And  become  pure  and  honest  minded  men." 

The  brothers  lookecl  up  tearfully,  gratefully. 

"  He  sees  that  the  good  reports  I  have  given  of  you  are  borne  out  by  the 
testimony  of  our  .little  model  plantation,  as  well  as  by  the  simple  and  high 
moral  tone  which  marks  your  letters,  conversation  and  general  bearing.  He 
sees  that  your  acquired  habits  of  industry  sit  easily  and  gracefully  upon  you, 
without  the  least  shadow  of  restraint.  He  sees  and  feels  that  you  have  learned 


OP    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  163 

• 

the  wisdom  of  throwing  ofi^  through  choice,  all  vicious  thoughts  and  unnymly 
hankerings ;  that  you  are  no  longer  mere  idle,  pleasure-loving  worldlings,  but 
MEN — men  of  pure  souls  and  honest  hearts — men,  who  perceive  first  the  ne- 
cessity and  then  the  justice  of  each  individual  member  of  the  great  family  of 
man,  willingly  and  honestly  performing  his  share  of  work  in  his  passage 
through  the  world.  He  sees  that  you  have  a  clear  and  vivid  conception  of 
what  man  ®wes  first,  to  himself,  secondly,  to  his  fellow-man,  and  then  to  his 
God;  he  sees  that  you  live  up  to  this  conception,  and  that,  knowing  the 
meanness  and  beastiality  of  vice,  you  prefer  the  nobler  and  purer  course  of 
virtue ;  that,  having  imbibed  deeply  from  the  fount  of  error,  you  are  deter- 
mined to  drink,  henceforth,  only  from  the  well  of  truth !" 

"  As  He  may  help  us !"  said  Frederick,  reverently  lifting  up  his  eyes 
which  were  bedewed  with  tears  from  a  contrite  and  grateful  heart 

"  As  He  may  sustain  us !"  added  George,  trembling  with  devout  joy. 

"  As  He  WILL!"  observed  Mowizon,  solemnly,  "  as  He  DOES  all  who  trust 
in  Him !" 

"  We  repose  our  faith  in  Him!"  exclaimed  Frederick. 

•'  We  confide  in  Him !"  added  George. 

"And  he  will  desert  you  never!"  returned  Mowizon,  encouragingly,  and 
looking  around  as  if  expecting  somebody.  "  As  I  was  saying,  boys,  Neil 
sees  that  from  the  test  to  which  you  so  cheerfully  submitted,  you  have  come 
out  pure  and  true ;  that  from  the  lessons  which  you  sat  down  to  learn,  you 
have  risen  ripe  and  healthy  scholars ;  and  that  from  mere  worthless  world- 
lings, you  have  become  upright  and  useful  men." 

"  Oh,  Ned,"  cried  Frederick,  in  a  trembling  voice,  "  is  this  true  that  you 
are  telling  us?" 

"Tell  us,  Ned,"  added  Georgea  "  shall  we  at  length  have  the  heavenly  pri- 
vilege of  receiving  our  brother's  confidence,  of  walking,  conversing  and  liv- 
ing with  him  familiarly,  constantly ;  and  of  being  re-united  to  the  love,  bless- 
ing and  elevating  companionship  of  our  pure  and  tender  mother  ?" 

"  Shall  we  again,  Ned,"  demanded  Frederick.  "  take  our  seats  together  at 
the  family  table,  kneel  together  at  the  family  altar,  sit  together  around  the 
family  hearth,  and  sleep  once  more  like  a  happy  family  under  the  roof  of  the 
old  homestead  ?" 

"  Receive,"  asked  George,  '''  our  brother's  unchanging  friendship,  our  moth- 
er's constant  smile  ?" 

"  Oh!"  cried  Frederick,  trembling,  "that  would  be  more  than  an  Eden,  it 
>vould  be  heaven !"  • 

"  Is  it  this,  Ned,"  asked  George,  in  a  voice  broken  with  emotion,  and 
with  a  mingled  look  of  fear  and  hope,  "  that  you  are  promising  us?" 

"Boys,"  returned  Mowizon,  slowly,  "it  is  this  which  I  promise  you,  but 
not  on  the  instant." 

"Oh,  no !"  exclaimed  Frederick,  with  a  burst  of  gratitude,  "  not  on  the  in- 
stant, for  the  suddenness  of  so  great  a  joy  would  kill  us.  But  soon  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  will  be  soon,  Ned,  will  it  not?"  asked  George. 

"  Yes,  boys — soon !"  added  Mowizon,  again  looking  around,  and  answer- 
ing with  a  movement  of  his  finger  a  sign  made  to  him  by  some  party  or  par- 
ties in  the  wood. 

"  Oh !"  cried  the  twins,  throwing  themselves  upon  his  neck,  "  bless  you, 
Ned — bless  you  !" 

"  And  Him  ?"  said  Mowizon,  pointing  upward,  in  a  tone  of  mingled  re- 
proof and  reverence. 

"'Ah!  yes,"  they  exclaimed,  "you  are  right.  "Pis' to  Him  we  Should  re- 
turn thanks  for  this  unmerited  happiness.  To  Him !" 

There  was  a  silence  of  some  moments. 

"As  I  was  saying,  boys,"  resumed  Mowizon,  at  length,  "Neil  is  satisfied 
that  the  change  which  has  come  over  your  minds  is  both  pure  and  penna- 


ing 


164  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

.nent,  and  now  deems  you  fit,  morally  and  mentally,  to  enter  the  hallowed 
presence  of  your  mother." 

"Oh!  happiness— happiness !" 

"  For  this  hour,"  continued  Mowizon,  raising  his  voice  to  a  slightly  higher 
key,  and  making,  unnoticed  by  the  twins,  a  sign  to  the  parties  he  had  de- 
tected in  the  wood,  "for  this  hour,  he  has  prayed  long  and  fervently ;  for  this 
hour — " 

"For  this  hour,"  repeated  a  ripe,  rich,  pleasant  voice  which  caused  the 
twins  to  spring  from  their  seats  with  a  cry  of  exultant  joy,  "  that  he  might 
say,  Come  to  my  heart,  my  brothers!  For  this  hour,"  added  the  planter,  for 
it  was  he,  as  the  twins  threw  themselves  upon  his  breast,  "  that  I  might 
say,  Ye  have  not  longer  yearned  for  this  moment  than  I." 

"  Oh,  my  brother — my  brother !"  exclaimed  the  twins,  pressing  him  with 
indescribable  delight  in  their  arms. 

"  For  this  hour,"  continued  the  planter,  waving  his  hand,  unseen  by  the 
twins,  at  which  sign  the  tall,  manly  figure  of  the  scalp  hunter  emerged  from 
the  wood  into  the  lawn,  accompanied  by  a  lady,  whose  small,  slender  form 
was  attired  in  a  dress  of  Quaker  like  make,  neatness  and  simplicity,  and 
whose  trembling  steps  bespoke  her  mental  and  physical  agitation,  "for  this 
kour,  that  I  might  say,  Brothers  behold  your  mother,!  For  this  hour,  that  I 
might  say,  Mother,  thy  lost  ones  have  returned,  pure  as  when  they  left  thee, 
for  thy  blessing!" 

'  My  Frederick — my  George !  my  children !"  sobbed  Mrs.  Somers,  open- 
her  arms. 

Mother!  Oh,  heaven!  mother— receive  us,  bless  us!"  gasped  the  twins, 
throwing  themselves  at  her  feet 

"  For  this  hour,"  continued  the  planter,  extending  one  hand  over  those  he 
so  fervently  loved,  and  lifting  the  other  reverently  to  heaven,  "  that  I  might 
say,  Lo !  we  are  again  united — our  hearth  stone  that  was  broken,  is  whole 
again — our  joy  that  was  imperfect,  is  complete — thanks,  thanks  to  THEB!" 


CHAPTER   XXII 

Two  days  subsequent  to  the  events  narrated  in  the  preceding  chapter,  co- 
lotiel  Balfour^the  commandant  of  the  city  of  Charleston,  was  seated  in  the 
drawing  room  of  his  head-quarters,  perusing  a  despatch  from  Lord  Rawdon, 
then  in  command  of  the  British  forces  in  South  Carolina.  Before  him,  on  a 
large  circular  table,  lay  a  number  of  maps,  papers,  letters,  and  the  necessary 
appliances  for  epistolary  correspondence. 

Colonel  Balfour,  was  a  tall,  portly  personage,  with  bold  Saxon  features,  of 
a  lordly  aristocrat  cast,  and  was  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  his  office. 

He  was  interrupted  in  the  perusal  of  the  despatch  by  the  entrance  of  an 
aid-de-camp,  who  appeared  to  have  something  to  communicate. 

"  What  is  it,  Hudson  ?"  said  the  commandant,  familiarly. 

*'  There  is  a  gentleman  without,"  replied  the  aid-de-camp,  "  who  desires  an 
interview." 

"Who  is  he?" 

«  A  Mr.  Brofield,  from  Kingstree." 

"His  business?" 

"  He  did  not  inform  me  of  that,  colonel ;  but  judging  from  his  manner,  I 
should  say  it  was  of  importance." 

Colonel  Balfour  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  observed— 

"  Admit  him." 

The  aid-de-camp  bowed  aud  retired,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  stranger 


OP    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  165 

made  his  appearance,  anp  saluted  the  commandant  with  an  air  which  satisfied 
the  latter  that  his  visitor  was  of  a  superior  order  in  the  ranks  of  social  intel- 
ligence. 

The  stranger  was  dressed  in  a  tight  fitting  body  coat  of  blue  cloth,  lined 
with  pale  silk ;  a  white  vest,  buff  breeches,  silk  hose,  and  pumps  with  silver 
buckles.  In  his  right  hand,  he  held  a  black  chapeau,  which  ho  had  taken 
from  his  head  as  he  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  apartment. 

"  Mr.  Brofield,  I  presume  ?"  said  the  commandant,  waving  him  courteously 
to  a  chair.  "  To  what,  sir,  do  I  owe  the  honor  of  this  visit  ?"  he  continued, 
as  the  stranger  seated  himself. 

"  My  object  in  calling  upon  you,  sir,"  said  the  stranger,  with  an  air  of 
ease  and  graceful  dignity  which  struck  colonel  Balfour  with  surprise  and  ad- 
miration, "  is  to  obtain  from  you,  if  possible,  the  necessary  means  to  enable 
me  to  check .  the  movements  of  the  rebels  in  the  neighborhood  in  which  I 
reside." 

"  Oblige  me  with  an  explanation,  Mr.  Brofield?"  said  the  commandant, 
strongly  impressed  by  the  noble  bearing  of  his  visitor. 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  returned  the  stranger.  "  It  cannot  but  be  known  to  you, 
colonel  Balfour,  that  the  operations  of  the  rebels  in  the  interior  are  directed 
with  great  fierceness  against  the  friends  of  His  Majesty  ?" 

"  I  am  aware  of  that,  Mr.  Brofield." 

"  Of  late,"  continued  the  stranger,  '•'  they  have  been  unusually  troublesome 
and  particularly  so  in  the  section  in  which  I  reside.  Our  dwellings  have  been 
fired,  our  fields  destroyed,  our  people  butchered.  Day  after  day  witnesses 
some  new  calamity,  some  fresh  outrage,  equally  as  appalling,  if  not  more 
frightful,  than  any  which  preceded  it  And  what  renders  our  position  the 
more  aggravating  is  that,  notwithstanding  the  heavy  and  almost  oppressive 
assessments  to  which  we  are  subjected  by  the  crown,  we  are  yet  left  to  the 
rapacity  of  these  rebels,  who,  aware  of  our  utter  defencelessness,  fall  upon  us 
without  fear,  and  without  mercy." 

"  And  you  endure  this  tamely  ?"  said  Colonel  Balfour,  in  a  mingled  tone  of 
sympathy  and  reproach. 

"  We  endure  it,"  returned  the  stranger,  with  an  air  of  tranquil  grandeur, 
"because  the  king,  by  leaving  us  without  protection,  bids  us  submit  to  it!" 
./'This  is  a  superior  personage!"  murmured  the  commandant  to  himself. 

"  But  we  would  not  put  up  with  it,  not  passively  at  least,"  added  the 
stranger,  "if  the  crown,  by  giving  us  the  means  of  defence,  should  bid  us  re- 
taliate upon  the  mauraders.  Then,  for  every  blow  inflicted  upon  us,  we 
should  return  two ;  for  every  step  they  made  upon  our  borders,  they  would 
pay  the  price  with  a  life." 

This  was  said  with  a  native  modesty  and  earnestness  which  left  no  doubt 
of  the  stranger's  meaning  or  sincerity. 

"It  is  to  obtain  at  your  hands  the  means  and  permission  to  punish 
these  rebels,"  resumed  the  stranger,  "  that  I  am  here,  at  the  desire  of  my 
friends." 

"The  permission,  I  can  easily  grant  you,  Mr.  Brofield,"  said  the  com- 
mandant ;  "  but  I  must  confess  that  the  means  are  not  so  freely  at  my  dis- 
posal. Our  troops  are  not  so  numerous  as  I  could  wish,  and  the  operations 
of  Lord  Rawdon  in  the  northern  part  of  the  province,  by  his  continual  drafts 
upon  me  for  men,  are  daily  still  further  reducing  the  number  in  my  hands. 
It  was  but  yesterday  I  sent  him  four  hundred  troops,  and  to-day  I  received 
another  despatch  ordering  an  additional  three  hundred.  You  see,  therefore, 
Mr.^  Brofield,  that  my  hands  are  tied  in  this  matter,  and  that,  however  much 
di8p"osed  I  might  be  to  preserve  you  from  the  aggressions  of  the  rebels,  the 
ability  to  do  so  is  not  in  my  keeping." 

"  Will  you  pardon  me,  colonel,"  said  the  stranger,  with  an  air  of  impressive 
ddgnity ;  "  but  I  fear  I  did  not  expres?  myself  with  sufficient  clearness." 


166  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

"  WeO,  sir  ?"  returned  the  commandant,  courteously. 

"  It  was  not  men  for  which  I  intended  to  ask  you,  colonel,  but  arms,  am- 
munition and  clothing,  with  which  to  equip  a  legion  out  of  our  own  dis- 
trict." 

"Ah!  indeed?"  returned  the  commandant.  "That  alters  the  case,  ma- 
terially. How  large  a  force  could  you  bring  into  the  field  ?"  he  added,  after 
a  brief  pause. 

"  We  have  obtained  the  signatures  of  five  hundred  trusty  men,"  returned 
the  stranger. 

The  commandant's  eyes  sparkled. 

"  That  is  a  goodly  number,"  he  observed,  thoughtfully.  "  At  how  short  a 
notice  could  they  be  collected  ?" 

"  Twenty-four  hours." 

The  commandant  reflected.     At  length, 

"  Say  I  could  furnish  you  with  the  means  to  equip  that  number  of  men," 
he  asked,  "  what  would  be  the  result?" 

"  This,"answered  the  stranger,  calmly.  "  You  would  have  one  great  en- 
emy the  less  to  disturb  your  plans — one  partisan  the  less  to  hang  on  your 
footsteps  and  annoy  you." 

"You  speak  very  confidently,  Mr.  Brodfield!"  returned  the  commandant 
with  a  smile.  "  Why,  sir,  there  are  but  two  men  of  that  importance  in  the 
whole  province !" 

"  Nevertheless,"  returned  the  stranger,  "  I  repeat  it.  You  will  have  one 
great  enemy  the  less." 

"  Are  you  aware  of  the  two  of  whom  I  speak?"  asked  the  commandant,  in 
surprise. 

"  I  think  I  could  name  them,  colonel" 

"  Reflect,  Mr.  Brofield,"  said  the  commandant.  "The  individuals  to  whom 
I  allude  are  not  ordinary  men." 

"  I  do  not  refer  to  ordinary  men,  colonel,"  returned  the  stranger,  tran- 


ae  persons  to  whom  I  refer,"  continued  the  commandant,  "are  men  of 
power,  of  talent,  nay  of  genius." 

"  'Tis  of  such  men  I  am  thinking,  colonel." 

"  Then,  sir,"  said  the  commandant,  shifting  nervously  in  his  chair,  "  name 
the  parties,  and  thus  prove  to  me  that  you  have  not  unduly  estimated  their 
importance?" 

"  Sumpter  and  Marion,"  was  the  reply. 

The  features  of  the  commandant  sparkled  with  joy. 

"  And  which  of  these  partisans,"  he  said,  half  springing  from  his  seat,  "will 
you,  with  your  legion,  answer  for  ?" 

"The  latter." 

"Marion?" 

"  Marion." 

"  You  will  answer  for  his  capture  ?" 

"I  will  answer,"  said  the  stranger,  "  that  he  shall  no  longer  hang  on  the 
footsteps  of  your  army — that  he  shall  no  more  cut  off  your  reinforcements!" 

"  That  is  not  enough,  sir !" 

"  Then  I  will  promise,"  added  the  stranger,  "  to  have  him  in  Charleston  in 
less  than  a  vear." 


"  A  year  is  a  long  time,  Mr.  Brofield !" 
"  In  which  to  take 


a. common  enemy,  yes— but  not  a  wily  one  like  Ma- 
rion. It  is  now  more  than  six  years  since  he  threw  down  the  gaunliet  of 
defiance  to  the  whole  force  of  the  British  orown,  and  he  is  still  untaken  !" 

"  True !"  returned  the  commandant.  "  I  see,  sir,  that  you  fully  compre- 
aend  the  character  of  the  rebel  whom  you  propose  to  take  in  hand." 

'He  has,  himself,  furnished  us  with  the  means  of  comprehending  it,"  ob- 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  167 

served  the  stranger.  "  Has  he  not  been  before,  around  and  upon  us  ever  since 
the  opening  of  this  war  ?  driven  us  from  point  to  point,  cut  off  our  people 
and  our  res«urces,  deprived  us  of  our  arms,  taken  from  us  every  means  of 
defence,  and  then  compelled  us  to  remain  passive  while  he  swept  off  our  pro- 
visions? Ah!  have  we  not  cause  to  understand  birn  ?  And  now,  if  you  will 
furnish  us  with  arms,  ammunition  and  clothing,  shall  we  not  hunt  him  as  he 
has  hunted  us  ?  Shall  we  not  make  him  rue  the  hour  when  he  took  up  arms 
against  men  whose  principle  was  loyalty,  and  whose  desire  was  peace  ? 
Shall  we  give  him  an  hour  of  rest  who  has  so  long  disturbed  the  serenity  of 
our  repose  ?  Shall  we  spare  him  who  never  displayed  mercy  to  us  ?  Shall 
we  give  over  our  pursuit,  once  we  have  begun  it,  till  he  is  in  the  toils,  and 
his  band  crushed — every  one  ?  No — let  him  look  to  it — the  game  he  plays 
draws  towards  it  close ;  the  hunters  are  upon  his  track,  and  will  not  pause 
till  they  have  run  him  down !" 

This  was  uttered  in  the  calm,  deep,  earnest  voice  of  a  long  patient,  but  at 
length  aroused  and  sternly  determined  man. 

"Enough,  Mr.  Brofield,"  said  the  commandant,  who  had  been  attentively 
regarding  him,  "you  shall  have  the  appliances  necessary  to  enable  you  to 
carry  this  plan  into  execution." 

"Accept  my  most  fervent  acknowledgments,  colonel!"  exclaimed  the 
stranger,  with  the  first  expression  of  pleasure  he  had  yet  evinced.  "  And 
when  ?" 

"  This  hour,  if  you  say  so.     What  arms  do  you  prefer  ?" 

"  Those  which  will  place  us  on  a  level  with  our  enemy — rifles." 

"  We  have  but  a  scant  supply  of  them — nevertheless,  your  plan  is  impor- 
tant :  you  shall  have  them." 

The  stranger's  eyes  sparkled  as  he  bowed  his  thanks. 

"  Of  ammunition,  we  have  plenty,"  continued  the  commandant,  pe»ning  a 
memorandum  of  the  articles  under  consideration ;  "  so  there  will  be  no 
trouble  in  that  quarter.  How  are  your  friends  off  for  shoes  ?" 

"  Poorly." 

"  We'll  throw  in  a  pair  for  each  man,  then.  We  have  an  ample  supply. 
Clothing,  blankets,  and  such  matters,  will,  you  say,  also  be  required?" 

"Yes,  colonel?" 

"To  convey  these  things,  you  will  require  six  baggage  wagons,  with  two 
stout  horses  to  each.  I  can  furnish  you  the  teams,  but  not  the  men.  As  I 
said  before,  I  have  not  a  soldier  to  spare,  scarcely  enough  to  protect  the 
city." 

"  I  have  a  friend  with  me,"  said  the  stranger.  "  He  has  a  keen  eye,  a 
stout  heart,  and  a  brave  hand.  He  carries  a  rifle,  and  understands  the  use 
of  it!" 

"But,  with  all  that,'1  observed  the  commandant  with  a  smile,  "he  wifl 
not  be  able  to  protect  six  waggons !" 

"  He  is  equal  to  ten  ordinary  men,"  returned  the  stranger,  with  a  calm 
confidence  which  struck  the  colonel  with  admiration  and  surprise,  "  and  will 
securely  protect  the  rear.'1 

"But  the  front?" 

"  As  for  the  front,"  returned  the  strange:,  witn  a  modest,  yet  manly  dig- 
nity, "  I  shall  be  there." 

"  True !"  observed  the  commandant,  surveying  with  an  admiration  -which 
he  could  not  wholly  repress  the  man  who  scarcely  appeared  to  comprehend 
the  meaning  of  the  word  danger.    "  But  there  is  one  thing  which  you  appear 
to  forget  in  connection  with  this  your  commendable  design." 
*  '  "Ah!  colonel?"  returned  the  stranger,  with  an  inquiring  glance. 

"Reflect!"  said  the  colonel,  with  a  smile. 

"On  what,  colonel?"  asked  the  stranger,  tranquilly. 

"  Reflect,"  repeated  the  commandant,  "  on  the  leading  essential  to  carry 


168  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DAYS 

on  the  operations  of  a  war — wanting  which,  men,  arms,  ammunition  and 
clothing  are  as  noughj, !" 

"  Money !"  answered  the  stranger. 

"  Exactly !     And  that  you  have  forgotten  ?" 

"  No,  colonel.     I  have  not  forgotten  it !" 

"  But  you  have  not  asked  for  it?" 

"  True,  colonel.  But  it  is  because  I  had  not  the  courage,  having  asked  and 
obtained  so  much  of  you  already !" 

"  Mr.  Brofield,"  said  the  commandant,  rising  and  advancing  towards  him, 
with  an  air  of  surprise  and  unmixed  pleasure,  ' '  your  hand !  You  are  a  gen- 
tleman, sir,  and  one  whom  I  feel  honored  in  taking  to  my  acquaintance !" 

The  stranger  blushed. 

"  You  overrate  an  humble  country  planter,  I'm  afraid,  colonel !"  he  said, 
modestly. 

"  Not  in  the  least,  Mr.  Brofield — not  in  the  least !"  returned  the  command- 
ant, shaking  him  warmly  by  the  hand.  "  As  for  the  money  you  require,  air," 
he  added,  resuming  his  seat,  "  the  king's  exchequer  is  ever  open  to  his  friends  ; 
and  although  it  is  not  over-heaped  at  present — " 

"My  dear  colonel,"  interrupted  the  stranger,  "I  cannot  permit  the  king's 
chest  to  suffer,  persuaded  as  I  am  that  it  is  the  princely  generosity  of  his 
almoner,  and  not  His  Majesty's  strong  box,  which  would  in  reality  be  the 
loser." 

"Not  altogether,  Mr.  Brofield,"  replied  the  commandant  "But  since 
you  have  discovered  it,  I  will  confess  it  was  my  intention,  knowing  his  ma- 
jesty's treasury  to  be  rather  weak,  to  have  made  up  out  of  my  own  purse,  the 
major  part  of  the  sum  necessary  for  your  design." 

"  And  to  that  colonel,"  said  the  stranger,  "  I  most  assuredly  would  not 
consent" 

"  Why  not,  Mr.  Brofield  ?"  asked  the  commandant,  in  surprise. 

"  Because,  colonel,  it  would  be  a  drain  upon  your  private  fortune,  for  which 
you  would  never  be  reimbursed;  and  because,"  he  added,  ingenuously,  "it 
is  not  in  my  nature  to  take  advantage  of  a  friend's  kindly  feelings ;  and  be- 
cause,'' he  concluded,  "  there  are  others,  doubtlessly,  who  comprehend  the 
importance  of  the  capture  of  so  active  an  enemy  as  Marion,  and  would  will- 
aigly  subscribe  of  their  means  to  secure  its  accomplishment" 

"  Mr.  Brofield,"  said  the  commandant,  in  a  tone  of  deep  admiration,  "  you 
have  a  considerate  and  noble  heart.  Your  plan  for  raising  the  needful  has 
my  warmest  approbation,  and  I  will  head  the  list  with  five  hundred  pounds 
in  his  majesty's  name,  and  an  equal  amount  in  my  own." 

"  You  overwhelm  me  with  kindness,  colonel — " 

"Pray,  don't  mention  it!"  said  the  commandant  "Here,"  he  added, 
handing  the  stranger  a  paper,  "  is  the  order  for  the  rifles,  ammunition,  and 
baggage  wagons,  and  here,"  giving  him  a  second  paper,  "  the  order  for  the 
blankets,  clothing,  and  shoes.  Have  you  your  subscription  paper  ready  ?" 

"  No,  colonel,  but  I  can  soon  prepare  it" 

"  Take  a  seat  at  the  table  then,  and  do  so.  The  sooner  these  matters  are 
got  over,  the  better." 

The  subscription  paper  was  speedily  written  out,  in  a  clear,  bold  hand,  and 
submitted  to  the  commandant,  who  after  running  his  eyes  over  it,  took  up  a 
pen  and  wrote  the  king's  name  and  his  own  for  the  promised  sums,  observing 
at  the  same  time — 

"There  will  be  a  party  here  to-night,  Mr.  Brofield,  to  which  I  hereby  in- 
Tite  you.  The  guests  will  consist  of  the  leading  loyalists  of  Charleston,  who 
will,  no  doubt  be  happy,  at  my  suggestion,  to  fill  up  this  paper  liberally." 

"How  shall  I  express  my  gratitude,  colonel,  for  this  magnanimous  gene- 
*osity  ?"  asked  the  stranger,  taking  the  paper  which  was  now  returned  to 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  169 

him,  and  adding  his  own  name  to  it  for  a  sum  equal  to  that  subscribed  by 
colonel  Balfour. 

"By  not  saying  another  word  upon  the  subject!"  returned  the  command- 
ant, pleasantly.  "  Go  now.  and  look  after  your  claims  upon  my  commissa- 
ries. At  ten  to-morrow,  the  crown's  subscription,  together  with  my  own, 
will  be  subject  to  your  order.  Good  day !" 

They  shook  hands,  with  the  air  of  men  entertaining  the  highest  regard  for 
one  another,  and  the  stranger  took  his  leave,  murmuring — 

"  My  country — my  country  !  thy  foes,  thy  foes  are  paying,  equally  with 
thy  friends,  the  price  of  thy  freedom!" 

The  day  wore  away,  without  any  further  incident  worthy  of  notice.  The 
night  came,  and  with  it  the  ball.  The  head-quarters  of  the  commandant  pre- 
sented a  scene  at  once  animating  and  picturesque.  The  long  wide  hall  was 
lined  on  either  side  by  young  and  active  officers,  in  scarlet  uniforms  covered 
with  gold  lace,  who  had  volunteered  to  act  the  part  of  ushers  for  the  compa- 
ratively small  but  select  company  that  had  been  honored  by  colonel  Balfour 
with  an  invitation. 

The  vast  drawing  rooms  were  thrown  open,  and  both  sides  were  lined  with 
the  youth,  wealth  and  beauty  of  the  city.  The  orchestra,  composed  of  the 
band  of  colonel  Balfoar's  own  regiment  of  fusileers,  was  of  a  superior  charac- 
ter. Its  enlivening  music  gave  additional  animation  to  the  guests,  who,  when 
the  icy  manner  which  ever  pervades  the  earlier  stages  of  all  social  assemblies 
had  thawed  and  melted  into  bon  hommie,  abandoned  themselves  to  the  spirit 
of  the  occasion  with  the  liveliest  satisfaction. 

The  stranger  did  not  arrive  till  late,  that  is  to  say,  about  ten  o'clock,  and 
•pon  entering  the  drawing  room,  found  himself  "  the  observed  of  all  obser- 
vers." Independent  of  the  attentions  lavished  upon  him  by  his  host,  he  was 
received  and  treated  by  the  British  officers  with  the  most  flattering  conside- 
ration, and  by  them  turned  and  introduced  from  one  to  another,  .till  he  had 
run  the  gauntlet  of  the  company. 

Wherever  he  moved,  all  eyes  were  directed  at  him  like  a  battery  ;  what- 
ever he  said  was  re-whispered  and  repeated,  as  if  it  had  been  a  gem  of  wit  or 
wisdom.  His  calm,  majestic  and  superbly  chiselled  features,  the  faultless 
symmetry  of  his  manly  figure,  and  the  ease,  grace  and  tranquil  finish  of  his 
every  movement  and  expression,  combined  to  render  him,  in  the  estimation 
of  the  host  and  guests,  the  handsomest  and  noblest  looking  gentleman  at  the 
ball.  . 

In  conversational  power  he  was  found  to  be  equally  as  fascinating  and 
Superior.  As  colonel  Balfour  observed  to  one  of  his  lady  guests,  "  he  charms 
you  with  a  word,  he  charms  you  with  a  look ;  he  has  but  to  move,  and  you 
aa  nire  him :  he  has  but  to  speak,  and  you  are  ready  to  fall  at  his  feet"  His 
obsv  rvations  were  those  of  a  ripe,  generous,  acute  and  richly  laden  mind  ; 
and  his  manner  of  delivering  them— but  here  again  we  must  let  the  corn- 
man'  -lant  express  his  opinion,  which  was  that  of  the  company  in  general — 
"JT.e  speaks  as  if  he  were  the  mouth  piece  only  of  your  thoughts,  which  he 
'Kndly  takes  upon  himself  to  express  for  you,  and  not  for  the  purpose  of  pa- 
Jading  his  own  intellect" 

He  danced,  too,  with  an  ease  and  grace  which,  while  elegant  was  at  the 
same  time  manly ;  every  movement  harmonizing  with  the  music,  of  which 
it  appeared  to  be  a  part,  and  replete  with  the  mingled  air  of  utter  abandon 
and  complete  self-possession  which  constitute}  the  faultless  dancer. 

As  the  evening  wore  on,  colonel  Balfour  approached  the  stranger,  and 
taking  him  aside,  whispered — 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Broneld,  I  have  spoken  to  my  guests,  and  confidentially 
prepared  them  for  your  subscription  paper.  I  think  we  had  better  at  them 
at  once." 

22 


170  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR   THE    DAYS 

"  With  pleasure,  colonel,"  returned  the  stranger,  "  if  such  is  your  opinion. 
But — " 

"  Speak  on,  my  friend,"  said  the  commandant,  kindly. 

"  Now  that  the  moment  is  come,  I  find  my  courage  oozing  from  mo  like 
blood  from  a  wounded  soldier.  I  have  not  the  confidence  necessary  to  ask  it 
of  them— I — " 

"  Pooh — pooh — never  mind  that !  I'll  do  the  talking  part,  and  save  you 
the  mortification  of  blushing  at  every  step.  Having  already  paved  the  way, 
I  can  go  through  it  without  wincing.  Come  along!" 

And  taking  him  by  the  arm,  the  commandant  led  him  from  one  to  another 
of  the  guests,  each  of  whom  subscribed  liberally,  till  he  had  completed  the 
tour  of  the  saloon,  and  filled  up  the  desired  amount 

"  Now,  my  dear  friend,"  said  colonel  Balfour,  "  now  this  little  matter  is  got 
through,  let  us  retire  to  the  ante-room,  and  drink  success  to  your  noble  en- 
terprise over  a  bottle  of  wine." 

"  Ah !  colonel,"  returned  the  stranger  "  I  must  beg  you  to  excuse  me.  "  I 
never  drink  anything  but  water.  My  poor  head  will  stand  nothing  stronger !" 

"Nothing  stronger  than  water?"  returned  the  commandant  with  a  good 
•  natured  smile.  "  That  accounts,  then,  for  the  sinewy  slenderness  of  your 
frame.  You  should  grow  portly — portly,  like  me,  which  you  will  never  do 
till  you  take  to  wine,  or  at  all  events  to  something  better  than  water !  But 
who  is  this  ?"  he  added,  turning  to  an  elderly  gentleman  who  .was  approach- 
ing them. 

"  My  dear  colonel,"  said  the  latter,  with  an  air  of  playfulness,  "  do  you  not 
know  that  you  are  drawing  upon  yourself  the  severe  displeasure  of  the  fairer 
portion  of  your  guests  ?" 

"How  so,  Mr.  Wilton?"  asked  the  colonel^  in  the  same  lively  tone. 

"  By  monopolising  our  friend  here,  Mr.  Brofield  ?" 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Wilton,"  said  the  stranger,  with  that  ready  tact  which  had  al- 
ready won  for  him  the  warmest  admiration  of  the  commandant,  "  you  are  in 
error.  It  is  not  colonel  Balfour  who  is  monopolising  me,  but  I  who  am  mo- 
nopolising him." 

"  There,  take  him  aloag,  Mr.  Wilton,  take  him  along !"  exclaimed  the  com- 
mandant, laughing,  "or  he  will  persuade,  us  next  that  I,  and  not  himself,  am 
the  hero  of  the  night.  Take  him  along,  Mr.  Wilton — take  him  along !" 

Giving  the  stranger  his  arm,  the  old  gentleman  led  the  way  to 
the  drawing  room,  observing,  as  they  proceeded — 

"  Pardon  my  rudeness,  Mr.  "Brofield,  for  breaking  in  upon  you] 
with  the  colonel  You  must  lay  the  blame  to  my  niece,  who  is, 
townswoman  of  yours,  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  an  acquaintance!" 

"  I  was  not  aware,  Mr.  Wilton,"  answered  the  stranger,  with  a  i 
'•  that  there  was  anybody  here  from  my  neighborhood !" 

"  Oh,  yes,  my  niece.  She  has  been  in  the  city  over  a  fortnight. 
we  are,"  he  added,  pausing  in  front  of  the  lady  in  question.  "M 
permit  me  to  introduce  you  to  my  niece — Mrs.  Brunton !" 

Upon  hearing  this  name,  the  stranger  colored  to  his  temples,  b 
losing  his  self-possession.     He  bowed  gracefully  to  the  fair  widow, 
lingly  stretched  out  her  small  gloved  hand,  and  exclaimed,  as 
met — 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Brofield !  Really,  this  is  a  pleasure !  ' 
you  leave  home  ?'' 


"  on  coming  hither  that  I  should  have  the  happiness  of  meeting  wit! 
ly  treasured  a  friend !" 

"  Ah !  uncle !"  said  the  widow,  looking  up  at  Mr.  Wilton  before  1 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRV    MEN.  171 

you  still  here,  when  I've  got  ever  so  many  things  to  say  to  Mr.  Brofield? 
Do  have  mercy — there's  a  good  soul,  and  take  yourself  away  1" 

"If  you  say  so,  my  dear — certainly !"  returned  Mr.  Wilton,  moving  off, 
and  the  stranger  and  his  charming  companion  were  left  to  their  tete-a-tete. 

"How  is  this  Neil?"  said  the  widow,  in  a  low  whisper.  "For  the  first 
time  in  my  life,  I  find  you  shrouded  in  mystery!" 

"  Receive,  first,  my  gratitude,"  returned  the  planter,  as  the  reader  has  long 
since  suspected,  "  for  not  betraying  me !" 

"Betray  you — death  first!"  replied  Mrs.  Brunton,  dropping  her  eyes, 
while  a  flush,  deep  as  scarlet,  suddenly  mantled  her  features,  as  she  became 
conscious  that  she  had  been  guilty  of  a  faux  pas.  Then  recovering  herself 
with  a  powerful  effort,  she  added  in  the  same  low  murmuring  tone — 
"  Would  I  betray  my  schoolfellow,  Neil  ?" 

"Thanks,  Laura — thanks,  nevertheless,"  said  the  planter,  pressing  her  hand ; 
"  for  had  you  been  less  guarded,  less  watchful  of  your  manner,  my  secret 
might  have  been  discovered." 

"  But  tell  me,  Neil,  about  this  Mr.  Brofield,"  returned  the  widow,  glancing 
at  him,  archly.  "A  pretty  trick  this,  you  are  playing  upon  the  officers  of  the 
crown.  It  is  nothing  less  than  a  romance !" 

"  I  will  do  myself  the  honor  of  calling  upon  you  to-morrow,  and  giving 
you  an  explanation,"  said  the  planter.  "Meanwhile,  you  must  bear  with 
me.  Your  uncle — " 

"  Oh,  the  dear  old  soul  knows  nothing  beyond  what  everybody  else 
knows,"  smilingly  returned  Mr.  Brunton.  "  I  have  been  very  naughtily  en- 
gaged all  the  evening  in  explaining  to  him  the  pedigree  of  the  Brofields !  At 
what  hour  shall  I  expect  you  to-morrow  ?" 

"  Say  at  four  ?" 

"  Be  careful.     I  shall  look  for  you  as  the  clock  strikes !" 

"  Do  so,  Laura.     But  how  is  it  you  are  in  Charleston  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  got  so  frightened  on  the  night  of  Marion's  attack  upon  Colonel  Tar- 
leton,  and  so  nervous  afterward,  that  I  thought  a  trip  to  the  city  would  do 
me  good.  When  do  you  leave  town  ?" 

"  To-morrow  evening,  if  possible." 

"  So  soon  ?"  asked  his  companion,  with  a  sigh. 

"  I  grieve  to  say  it — yes.  Every  hour  now  is  of  priceless  value.  But 
shall  I  not  have  the  honor  of  a  minuet  with  you  ?  They  are  re-forming  upon 
the  floor!" 

"  When  do  you  go  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Brunton,  as  they  rose  to  take  their 
place  in  the  dance. 

"  As  soon  as  this  measure  is  over,"  he  replied.  "  I  have  many,  many 
things  to  do  ere  I  retire." 

Mrs.  Brunton  sighed,  and  gave  him  her  hand,  which  trembled  as  it  came 
in  contact  with  his. 

We  shall  not  pause  to  describe  the  grace,  beauty  and  ease  with  which 
they  passed  through  the  minuet,  but  fancy  it  finished,  and  the  fair  widow 
re-conveyed  to  her  seat 

"  I  must  now  take  my  leave,"  said  Somers,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  You  will  be  with  me  at  four  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Brunton,  earnestly. 

"  At  four.     Good  night,  and  happy  dreams  !" 

He  bowed,  and  moving  off,  went  in  search  of  Colonel  Balfour. 

The  widow  followed  him  with  her  eyes  till  he  disappeared,  and  then  yield- 
ed herself  up  to  one  of  those  delicious  reveries  in  which  the  heart  may  be  said 
to  take  a  larger  share  than  the  mind. 

To  a  woman  there  is  no  prouder  triumph  than  the  consciousness  that  the 
merits  of  the  object  of  her  heart's  worship,  are  generally  conceded  and  ad- 
mired. It  is  to  her  the  most  convincing  and  at  the  same  time  the  most 


172  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DATS 

gratifying  evidence,  that  she  has  not  bowed  the  knee  in  love's  temple  to  an 
idol  unworthy  of  her  homage. 

It  was  then  to  Mrs.  Brunton  one  of  the  swefetest  reflections  that  the  ms\n 
whom  she  loved  with  a  passion  which  perilled  her  very  soul,  had  created  so 
great  a  sensation  and  achieved  so  brilliant  a  triumph  at  the  ball.  Never  be- 
ibre  had  he,  even  in  her  eyes,  appeared  to  such  striking  advantage.  The  su- 
perb symmetry  of  his  figure,  set  off  by  a  dress  which  fitted  him  as  though 
both  had  come  together  from  nature's  unequalled  mould — the  quiet  ease, 
grace  and  manly  dignity  which  attended  his  every  movement — the  tranquil 
grandeur  of  his  general  appearance,  and  the  exceeding  richness  of  his  finely 
balanced  mind,  impressed  her  by  their  vividness  with  a  force  she  had  never 
previously  experienced,  and  added  to  the  intensity  of  the  love-fire  which  had 
for  years  been  burning  in  her  breast. 

But  as  she  remembered  the  fearful  part  he  was  playing — the  calmness 
with  which  he  walked  into  the  very  midst  of  his  enemies,  who,  did  they  but 
suspect  the  real  nature  of  his  errand,  would  at  once  rend  him  piecemeal,  a 
sense  of  his  danger  uprose  before  her,  and  she  trembled  for  his  safety. 

She  was  interrupted  in  her  thoughts  by  the  voice  of  her  host,  Colonel  Bal- 
four,  who  had  quietly  approached. 

"  You  have  had  the  pleasure,  Mrs.  Brunton,  of  meeting  with  a  towns- 
man?" he  asked,  as  he  seated  himself  beside  her. 

"  In  Mr.  Brofield  ?  Yes,  colonel  He  is  one  of  my  oldest  friends.  I  lit- 
tle suspected,  when  coming  here,  to  encounter  one  in  whose  acquaintance  I 
take  so  deep  an  interest !" 

"A  very  near  interest,  I  fear,  fair  lady!"  said  the  colonel,  gallantly. 
"  Else  why  that  tell-tale  blush  ?  Do  you  know,"  he  added,  drawing  nearer 
to  her,  "  that  he  has  taken  off  with  him  two- thirds  of  the  hearts  of  my  fair 
guests  ?" 

"  Two-thirds !"  repeated  Mrs.  Brunton.  with  a  smile  of  playful  disappoint- 
ment "  No  more  ?  At  Eangstree  he  is  accustomed  to  take  all !" 

"  Shocking !     But  their  lovers — what  do  they  say  to  such  conduct  ?" 

"  Oh !  he  takes  their  he*arts  with  him  also !" 

"  He  is,  then,  universally  loved  ?" 

"  Universally,  colonel !  As  with  the  ladies,  so  with  the  gentlemen.  He 
has  but  to  wish  it,  and  they  will  all  lay  down  their  lives  for  him  without  a 
murmur." 

"  Indeed!     He  must  be  very  popular  ?" 

"  He  is  so.  Those  who  know  him  regard  him  with  an  affection  bordering 
upon  reverence.  His  sense  of  justice  is  understood  to  be  so  clear  and  deli- 
cate, that  the  people  bring  their  differences  to  him  for  adjustment,  and  con- 
fide implicitly  in  his  decision  !  In  courage,  honor  and  wisdom  he  is  regard- 
ed as  without  an  equal  in  the  province." 

"  And  his  political  principles — " 

Quick  as  lightning  the  conviction  flashed  across  the  widow's  mental  vision 
that  these  questions  were  put  by  her  interrogator  to  dispel  a  doubt  or  fear 
which  had  crossed  him,  and  she  answered  without  pausing  an  instant  or  be- 
traying the  least  sign  of  embarrassment : 

"  A  sound,  unfaltering  loyalist !" 

A  slight  shade  which  had  settled  upon  the  commandant's  brow  now  dis- 
appeared, and  Mrs.  Brunton,  who  had  observed  it,  felt  satisfied  that  she  had 
done  the  planter  a  service  by  this  timely  reply. 

"  His  devotion,  then,"  said  Colonel  Balfour,  -'if  one  might  judge  by  your 
enthusiastic  description,  fair  lady,  may  be  relied  upon  ?" 

'  I  would  trust  him  with  my  life  ]"'  returned  liie  widow. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it.  my  fair  friend  !"  observed  the  commandant,  with  a 
smile;  "and  so  would  many  another  K-iM  tx;u  I  wot  of,  in  this  goodly  com- 
pany!" 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN  173 

u  Ah !  you  are  too  cruel,  colonel !"  returned  the  widow,  playfully,  without 
manifesting  the  slightest  shade  of  confusion. 

"  You  do  not  love  him,  then  ?"  asked  the  commandant 

"  Who — I  ?"  laughed  his  fair  auditor,  with  well  acted  indifference  and  vi- 
vacity. "  Why,  the  gentleman  is  engaged  to  another !" 

"How  apt  we  are  to  be  deceived  by  appearances!"  murmured  the  com- 
mandant to  himself.  "  I  took  this  woman  for  a  creature  of  passion.  Like 
the  majority  of  her  sex,  she  has  not  even  a  heart  She  can  be  indifferent  to 
such  a  man  as  Brofield,  because  he  is  engaged  to  another !  Pah !  Well,  my 
fair  friend,"  he  said,  rising  and  clothing  his  features  with  a  smile,  "  Til  tease 
you  no  longer,  on  one  condition  !" 

"  Name  it,  colonel !     I  do  so  love  conditioms !"  returned  the  lady,  archly. 

"  That  you  tell  me  the  nature  of  the  reverie  in  which  I  surprised  you  ?" 
said  the  commandant,  with  a  forced  smile. 

"  And  will  you  promise  not  to  tell  ?" 

"Most  sacredly* 

"  Give  me  your  ear,  then.  I  was  thinking  at  the  moment,"  she  whisper- 
ed, wefl  aware  of  the  impression  she  had  made,  "of  what  kind  of  wine  I 
should  taste  at  supper !" 

"  Ah !  you  have  a  merry  heart !"  said  the  colonel,  retiring  hastily.  "  Pah !" 
he  murmured,  as  he  passed  along.  "  A  heartless  creature  !  Cold,  selfish  and 
impressionless !  No  wonder  Brofield  vanished  so  quickly  after  conversing 
with  her.  She's  enough  to  disgust  a  man  of  a  refined  nature.  Thinking  of 
what  wine  she  should  drink !  Pah !"  . 

"He  thought  to  pump  me !"  muttered  Mrs.  Brunton,  with  a  quiet  smile, 
as  her  host  left  her.  "  He  !  But  I  think  I  have  changed  his  opinion  of  his 
penetrating  powers,  as  well  as  of  myself.  But,  no  matter,  I  have  done  Neil 
a  favor — perhaps  saved  him !" 

"  Well,  Stuart,"  said  the  commandant,  approaching  one  of  his  officers,  "  it's 
all  right.  Although  we  had  not  heard  of  this  Brofield  before,  there  appears 
to  be  no  reason  for  suspecting  him.  Mrs.  Brunton,  that  dashing  young  wid- 
ow on  the  ottoman,  knows  all  about  him.  She  is  a  townswoman  of  his,  has 
known  him  from  childhood,  and  has  given  me  a  very  interesting  account  of 
his  standing  in  Kingstree,  where  he  is  regarded  as  an  extraordinary  young 
man,  and  a  devoted  loyalist.  Some  other  time  I  will  tell  you  of  his  charac- 
ter in  his  native  village.  It  is  a  very  high  one,  I  assure  you !" 

"  If  you,  colonel,  feel  easy  upon  that  point,  I  have,  of  course,  nothing  more 
to  say !"  answered  the  officer,  bowing,  and  moving  off. 

"  See  what  it  is  to  be  jealous !"  muttered  the  commandant,  to  himself.  "  If 
the  lieutenant's  mistress  had  not  spoken  so  warmly  of  young  Brofield,  who 
has  evidently  dazzled  her  young  mind  by  the  splendor  of  his  appearance,  he 
would  never  have  dreampt  of  suspecting  him  ! 

Although  silenced  by  the  observations  of  the  commandant,  Lieutenant 
Stuart  was  yet  far  from  satisfied.  Conscious  that  he  had  no  good  grounds 
for  his  supposition  that  the  planter  was  other  than  what  he  represented  him- 
self to  be,  he  nevertheless  could  not  get  rid  of  an  impression  to  that  effect, 
and  quietly  determined  to  keep  an  eye  upon  hi™. 

Upon  reaching  his  lodgings,  Somers  found  the  scalp  hunter  patiently  await- 
ing him. 

"  Wall,  Neil,"  said  the  latter,  as  the  planter  made  his  appearance,  "  yew 
look  as  ef  the  Britishers  had  kum  down  sorter  handsum  !" 

"Everything  has  gone  well,  Nat,"  replied  Somers.  "Colonel  Balfour,  un- 
suspecting as  ever,  helped  me  along  generously.  The  guests  subscribed  with 
ready  grace,  and  we  have  four  thousand  pounds  upon  the  paper." 

"Je-ru-shal  Wnnt  that  give  the  gineral  a  lift,  and  wunt  his  men  put  into 
the  inimy  with  fresh  grit  ?  Oh,  no — of  course  not — by  no  manner  of  means  I 
And  then  the  idee  that  we  should  larrup  the  British  Tarmint  with  their  own 


174  THE    SWAMP   STEED  ;    OR   THE   DAYS 

powder  an'  lead — ef  it  aint  enuff  to  make  a  feller  larf  his  grinders  out! 
Praps  they  wunt  git  riled  nor  nuthin*  when  they  kum  to  hear  ©n't.  Oh, 
Je-ru-sha!" 

"How  about  the  wagons,  Nat?"  asked  the  planter. 

"  They're  bunkum — every  thing's  packed,  and  ready.  I  made  the  Kom- 
missary  chuck  in  about  two  dozen  extra  suits — to  rectify  a  mistake !  The 
rifles  are  prime,  and  my  'pinion  ar'  they'll  tell  the  right  sorter  story.  As  for 
the  ammunition,  there's  plenty  on't,  an'  of  the  first  chop.  'Twould  do  your 
eyes  good  to  look  at  it— it  lays  so  nice  in  the  wagin.  But  yew  musn't  mind 
my  larfin',  Neil;  the  truth  is,  the  joke  is  so  rich,  ef  I  didn't  giggle  it  off,  I'd 
fall  to  pieces.  When  shall  we  start?" 

"  To-morrow,  at  dusk." 

"  Will  yew  be  able  to  kurlect  the  prescriptions  by  that  time  ?" 

"  I  think  so.  The  subscribers  understand  the  necessity  of  my  getting  off 
without  delay ;  and  as  they  are  anxious  to  retain  the  good  opinion  or  the 
commandant,  they  will,  doubjJess,  cash  up  at  sight.  But  why  do  you 
smile?" 

"  I  kant  help  it,  Neil.  Th<*  hull  affair  is  so  rich !  It  wun't  bear  tellin'  OH  ! 
But  it's  gettin'  late,  and  as  we  must  be  up  early,  I'll  squat  Good  night!" 

And  quitting  the  apartment  of  the  planter,  the  scalp  hunter  sought  his  own 
room,  and  threw  himself  upon  his  bed. 

But  in  vain  did  he  court  repose.  Accustomed  to  seek  his  slumbers  in  the 
woods,  where  he  could  "  feel  the  air"  and  have  what  he  termed  "  breathing 
room,"  he  found  his  horizontal  position  upon  the  bed  and  the  circum- 
scribed dimensions  of  his  chamber  more  than  he  could  endure ;  and  after 
tossing  restlessly  about  for  an  hour  or  more,  and  endeavoring  without  suc- 
cess to  resist  the  suffocating  sensation  which  oppressed  him,  he  rose,  caught 
up  his  blanket,  and  descending  the  staircase,  quitted  the  house,  and  seated 
himself  at  the  base  of  a  large  cypress  which  rose  majestically  from  the  brink 
of  the  sidewalk  facing  the  tavern. 

As  he  dropped,  he  heard  the  low  roar  of  the  waters  in  the  bay,  slightly 
shaken  by  the  freshening  wind. 

"Ah!"  he  murmured,  as  he  felt  the  air  sweeping  past  and  fanning  his 
heated  temples,  "  this  is  some'n  like  !" 

And  crossing  his  arms,  bracing  his  back  against  the  trunk  of  the  cypress, 
he  slightly  bowed  his  head,  and  was,  in  a  few  minutes,  in  a  sound,  snoring 
sleep. 

The  night  wore  on ;  the  darkness  gave  place  to  a  deep  gray,  the  herald  of 
the  approaching  dawn,  and  footsteps  resounded  on  the  pavement. 

The  sharp  ear  of  the  scalp  hunter,  trained  to  detect  the  slightest  sound, 
was  instantly  erect ;  one  after  another  of  his  senses  became  unlocked,  and 
finally  his  eyes  opened. 

He  put  his  ear  to  the  ground  and  listened. 

"  Some'n  's  coming!"  he  muttered.     "  I  must  hide." 

And  with  movements  soft  and  light  as  those  of  a  fox,  he  moved  his  large, 
heavy  body  around  to  the  rear  of  the  cypress,  and,  rising  slowly  to  his  feet, 
leaned  against  it  for  concealment. 

"  What's  goin'  on !"  he  muttered.     "  Some'n  wrong,  I  suspect." 

The  footsteps  approached,  and  at  length  paused  in  front  of  the  inn. 

The  scalp  hunter  bent  forward  quietly,  and  beheld  two  men  with  their 
backs  toward  him.  One  of  them  wore  the  costume  of  an  officer,  the  other, 
that  of  a  common  soldier. 

"  Red  coat  varmint !"  muttered  the  scalp  hunter.  "  What  are  they  dewin' 
here  ?  Praps  they've  found  us  out.  TJgh  1"  he  added,  shuddering  at  the 
idea. 

"  This  is  the  house,  Dawson,"  observed  the  officer,  in  a  low  voice  to  his 
companion.  "  Hang  around  and  watch  for  him.  I  have  some  reasons  to 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  175 

suppose  he  is  a  rebel  in  disguise.  You  will  recognize  him  by  the  description 
I  have  given  you." 

"  I  know  him  without  it,  lieutenant,"  said  the  sofdier.  "  I  was  at  the 
commissary's  when  he  came  with  the  order  from  the  commandant" 

"  Here's  a  pretty  mess!"  muttered  the  scalp  hunter. 

"  So  much  the  better,"  observed  the  officer,  encouragingly ;  "  you  will, 
therefore,  have  no  difficulty  in  identifying  him.  When  he  comes  out,  which 
will  not  be  long  after  daylight,  for  these  country  knaves  are  early  risers,  fol- 
low him.  In  case  you  perceive  or  learn  any  thing  suspicious,  hasten  to  my 
quarters,  and  let  me  know,  and  he  shall  be  immediately  arrested.  I'd  give  a 
hundred  guineas  to  be  able  to  prove  him  a  rebel !" 

"You  can  rely  upon  my  faithfulness,  lieutenant,"  said  the  private.  "  I'll 
hang  on  his  footsteps  like  his  shadow." 

"We'll  see  about  that !"    murmured  the  scalp  hunter. 

"  Enough,"  said  the  officer.     "  I  shall  depend  upon  you." 

"How  long  shall  I  watch  him,  lieutenant?  'Tis  said  that  he  intends  to 
leave  town  in  the  evening?" 

"  Follow  him  till  nightfall,  then,  if  necessary ;  and  the  instant  you  discover 
anything'  likely  to  implicate  him,  fly  with  speed  to  me.  I  would  annoy  him, 
if  I  can  do  nothing  more !" 

"  Very  well,  lieutenant.  But  I  shall  want  money  to  get  a  meal  or  two 
with,  in  case  I  may  have  to  be  on  the  watch  all  day." 

"  Of  course.  Here  is  a  guinea.  Now,"  said  the  officer,  moving  off,  "  look 
sharp !" 

"  I'll  do  my  best,  lieutenant,"  returned  the  private,  who  now  approached 
the  tree,  and  leaning  ajrair.^t  it,  threw  his  eyes  up  at  the  tavern,  as  if  trying'to 
guess  the  window  of  the  planter's  room. 

"Youwunt  he v  to  remain  in  that  persition  long,  you  espying  varmint, 
yew !"  muttered  the  scalp  hunter,  stealing  a  quiet  glance  around  the  trunk  of 
the  cypress,  and  observing  the  soldier's  attitude.  "  Yew  wunt  go  traih'n' 
after  Neil  Somers  nor  any  other  feller  this  day,  not  ef  I  reckon  right.  Jest 
stand  thar  tu  minits,  and  I'll  settle  your  corn  so  your  mammy  wunt  know 
yew !" 

And  taking  out  his  long  knife  from  under  his  vest,  the  scalp  hunter  quietly 
ran  it  through  his  blanket  which,  aided  by  the  moaning  waters  of  the  con- 
tiguous bay  that  drowned  the  sound  of  his  blade,  he  cut  into  strips,  one  of 
which  he  rolled  up  into  a  small,  thick  ball.  This  done,  he  returned  his  knife 
to  its  resting  place  betwen  his  shirt  and  vest,  muttering — 

"  Nuthin'  on.  airth  must  interfere  with  our  gittin  safely  out  of  the  city. 
The  ginerel's  only  hope  is  in  it,  and  we  must  dew  it.  Ef  we  should  be  dis- 
kivered  afore  we  get  outer  reach  of  the  kurnel,  he'd  hang  us  quicker  'n  chain 
lightnin' !  I'll  save  him  the  trouble,  by  making  fish  meat  of  one  of  his  sogers. 
How's  the  varmint  now,  I  wonder!'' 

With  this  mental  interrogatory,  he  peered  cautiously  around  the  tree,  and 
finding  the  private  in  the  same  watchful  attitude  as  before,  he  gathered  up 
the  blanket  strips,  threw  them  across  his  arm,  and  taking  the  crumpled  ball 
in  his  left  hand,  and  doubling  his  right,  he  quietly  sidled  around  the  cypress, 
and  raising  his  arm  dealt  the  soldier  a  blow  on  the  left  temple  which  would 
have  felled  an  ox. 

The  man  uttered  a  low  moan,  and  fell,  stunned  and  bleeding,  to  the  earth. 
Without  losing  a  moment,  the  scalp  hunter  forced  the  crumpled  ball  into  his 
mouth,  and  then,  with  the  blanket  strips,  bound  him  hand  and  foot 

"  This  is  kinder  cruel !"  muttered  the  scalp  hunter,  raising  the  body  and 
thowing  it  over  his  shoulder  as  if  it  was  a  feather ;  ''  but  it's  no  more'n  the 
espying  varmint  deserves.  The  Britishers  make  nuthin'  of  burnin'  hull  fami- 
lies of  rebels — why  should  we  spare  those  who  show  no  mercy  to  us  ?  Thia 
feller  is  a  spy — ef  I  let  him  free,  the  chances  are  agin  ua ;  ef  we  don't  git  off 


176  THE    SWAMP    STEED  j    OR    THE    DAYS 

with  our  spiles,  it  is  possible  we  may  hang,  the  gineral  will  be  without  mea?is 
to  jine  Greene,  and  the  cause  will  suffer.  No,"  he  added,  with  emotion,  '  I 
don't  like  to  du  it — for  it  aint  so  kumfurtable  a  feelin  to  take  a  feller  crie- 
teer's  life  in  this  way — but  there's  tew  much  risk  in  lettin'  him  off.  He  must 
go!" 

The  scalp  hunter  had  by  this  time  reached  the  river.  Daylight  was  slowly 
approaching,  and  the  waters  in  the  bay,  faintly  visible  through  the  gradually 
departing  gloom,  were  tossing  to  and  fro  with  a  stern  roar. 

Lowering  the  bound  soldier  to  the  ground,  the  scalp  hunter  groped  around 
the  shore  for  a  few  large  stones,  having  found  which,  he  returned,  and  affix- 
ing them  to  the  body,  drew  it  toward  the  edge  of  the  dock,  and,  steppiag 
back,  gave  it  a  slight  push.  A  splash  followed,  and  all  was  over. 

The  woodsman  now,  with  a  deep  sigh,  retraced  his  steps  and  returned  to 
his  lodgings. 

"  One  inimy  the  less !"  he  muttered.  But  it  was  not  in  the  tone,  nor  with 
the  feeling  of  a  man  who  had  killed  his  foe  in  fair,  honorable  combat. 

He  returned  to  his  room,  which  he  entered  just  as  dawn  was  breaking.  By 
the  faint  light,  as  he  approached  the  window,  he  perceived  blood  upon  his 
hands.  He  shuddered. 

"Freedom  is  bought  with  all  sorts  of  blood!"  he  muttered,  staggering  to 
a  chair  and  bowing  his  pale  face  in  hi^  hands. 

When  he  again  looked  up,  his  eyes  were  bloodshot. 

"  Wo !"  he  exclaimed  through  his  pent  teeth,  in  a  voice  like  that  of  a  half 
famished  wolf,  "  wo  to  the  varmint  that  crosses  .me  now!" 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  planter  rose  early,  and  on  descending  to  the  breakfast  room,  found  the 
scalp  hunter,  pale  and  gloomy,  seajpd  near  a  window,  and  looking  out  upon 
the  street. 

"Good  morning,  Nat,"  he  said,  approaching  him.  "  You  look  disturbed. 
Has  any  thing  happened?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  woodsman ;  "  but  I'll  not  venter  on  the  perticlers 
now." 

Somers  bowed,  and  regarded  him  silently. 

"The  sum  total  of  it,  Neil,"  continued  the  .woodsman  hoarsely,  "is  this. 
Yew  made  an  inimy  last  night  at  the  ball — a  lieutenant  somebody,  who  sus- 
pects you,  though  the  varmint  don't  appear  to  hev  any  reason  for  it.  So  be 
keerful  in  your  movements  to-day,  and  let's  be  off  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  How  did  you  learn  this,  Nat?" 

"  I'm  too  upsot  in  my  feelins  to  give  yew  the  perticklers  jest  now,"  re- 
turned the  scalp  hunter,  with  visible  agitation,  "and  I  hope  you  wunt  urge 
it.  When  we  reach  the  camp,  yew  shiU  kn©w  all." 

"Let  it  pass — let  it  pass,"  said  the  planter,  kindly.  "This  lieutenant,  you 
say,  only  suspects  me  ?" 

"  That  is  all,"  answered  the  woodsman. 

"  Then  we  have  nothing  to  fear,  Nat.  And  we'll  go  on,  calmly  as  ever, 
and  not  alter  our  plans  unless  something  new  should  arise.  Have  you  seen 
the  horses  the  commandant  gave  us,  this  morning?" 

"  No ;  but  I'll  go  and  look  to  'em  now,"  said  the  woodsman,  rising, 
"  WiH  you  come  along  ?" 

"  No.  I'll  out  and  see  which  way  the  land  lies,"  returned  the  planter,  signi- 
ficantly. "By  the  way,"  he  added,  lowering  his  yoice,  "I  may  not  be  able 
•  to  see  you  again  till  nightfall.  In  which  case,  you  will  have  the  team  at  the 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  177 

forked  road,  as  we  have  already  agreed.     You  haven't  forgot  the  counter- 
sign, by  which  we  are  to  pass  the  city  ?" 

" '  The  king's  seal,'  "  answered  the  woodsman,  in  a  whisper. 

"  Exactly.  Should  it  be  varied  to-day,  the  commandant  will  of  course  no- 
tify me  of  the  change,  in  which  case  I  shall  return  hither.  In  case  I  do  not 
come  back,  you  will  understand  it  to  mean  that  my  business  will  not  permit 
it,  and  that  the  password  remains  unaltered.  Adieu !" 

Nothing  further,  of  any  moment,  transpired  through  the  morning,  and  at 
ten  o'clock,  the  planter  presented  himself  before  Colonel  Balfour,  who  re- 
ceived him  warmly. 

"  You  propose  starting  at  dusk,  I  think  you  said,  Mr.  Brofield  ?" 

"  Yes,  colonel ;  the  better  to  elude  the  rebels,  who  would  scarcely  con- 
sider it  worth  while  to  attack  what  will  appear  in  the  moonlight  common 
country  wagons." 

"  You  are  going  to  give  them  that  appearance,  then  ?" 

"  Yes,  colonel  My  companion  is  engaged  upon  them  now  for  that  pur- 
pose." 

'"The  idea  is  capital,  and  I  wish  I  could  spare  you  a  guard.  But  I  scarce- 
ly regret  my  inability  to  do  so,  as  I  have  the  most  unlimited  confidence  in 
your  skill  to  conduct  the  affair  safely.  Have  you  called  upon  your  sub- 
scribers yet?" 

"  No,  colonel,"  returned  the  planter,  with  a  blush.  "  I  feared  it  might  be 
too  early.  There  would  scarcely  be  any  hope  of  finding  them  up." 

to  their 


"  And  yet,"  said  Colonel  Balfour,  "  it  will  not  do  to  trust  to  their  sluggish 
natures  to  rise  in  time  for  your  purpose.  Let  me  see !  I  have  it,"  he  added 
with  a  smile.  "  The  very  thing !  Where  is  your  subscription  paper  ?" 

"  Hero,"  said  the  planter,  taking  it  from  his  pocket 

Colonel  Balfour  ran  it  over  hastily,  and  then  wrote  out  an  order  for  the 
gross  amount.  Then  ringing  in  an  aid-de-camp — 

"  Take  this,  Hudson,  and  get  it  cashed.     Come,  despatch  1" 

The  officer  Vanished,  and  the  commandant  smiling  upon  the  somewhat 
confused  planter,  observed — 

"  We'll  head  off  the  sluggards,  Mr.  Brofield.  I'll  send  one  of  my  officers 
to-morrow  to  collect  their  subscriptions,  with  the  accompanying  fact  that  I 
have  cashed  their  several  amounts,  in  order  to  enable  you  to  get  off  prompt- 
ly. They  will  not  refuse  to  pay  me.  You  will  be  saved  the  mortifi- 
cation of  calling  upon  the  greasy  rogues,  and  have  so  much  more  time  in 
which  to  complete  your  arrangements." 

"  My  deal-  colonel,  you  are  overwhelming  me  with  kindness !" 

"  Pooh !  pooh !  Don't  mention  it !  I  esteem  it  a  pleasure  to  have  the 
ability  to  serve  a  delicate  and  superior  mind  like  yours,  Mr.  Brofield,  from 
the  petty  anxieties  of  common  humanity.  Where  do  you  wish  the  money 
sent?  Its  bulk  will  prevent  you  from  carrying  it  yourself!" 

"It  will  have  to  be  placed  in  one  of  the  wagons;  and  I  presume  it  would 
be  best  to  have  it  conveyed  to  them  at  once." 

"  By  all  means,"  observed  the  commandant  "  They  are  in  the  stable  yard 
of  your  hotel  ?" 

"Yes,  colonel." 

"Very  well.     The  bags  had  better  proceed  thither." 

The  aid-de-camp  returned  in  a  few  minutes,  with  the  intelligence  that  the 
money  was  in  four  bags  on  a  cart  at  the  door. 

"  Will  you  see  it  conducted  yourself,  Mr.  Brofield?"  asked  the  commandant 

"  Yes,  colonel,"  answered  the  planter,  rising  from  his  chair.  "  But  before 
I  take  my  leave,  I  will  bid  you  farewell  1" 

And  he  extended  his  hand,  which  colonel  Balfour  pressed  warmly. 

"  What !     Shall  I  not  see  you  again,  Mr.  Brofield,"  demanded  the  latter. 

23 


178  THE    SWAMP   STEED  |    OR    THE   DAYS 

"  I  fear  not,"  returned  the  planter.  "  Notwithstanding  the  vast  amount  of 
labor  you  have  so  kindly  taken  off  my  hands,  I  have  yet  much  to  do." 

"  I  doubt  it  not,  Mr.  Brofield.  Farewell,  then !  I  need  not  say  that  I  shall 
be  happy,  most  happy !  to  hear  from  you  as  frequently  as  your  plans  will 
consistently  admit.  Farewell,  sir.  My  best  wishes  attend  you !" 

The  planter  expressed  his  gratitude,  again  bade  him  adieu,  and  with  a  bow 
of  calm  dignity,  took  his  leave. 

At  the  appointed  hour  Somers  called  upon  Mrs.  Brunton.'  He  found  the 
widow  alone,  and  anxiously  awaiting  his  arrival 

"You  cannot  imagine,  Neil,"  she  said,  "how  delighted  I  am  to  see  you!" 

"  The  pleasure  is  not  all  on  one  side,  fair  lady,"  answered  the  planter,  gal- 
lantly. 

The  widow  raised  her  forefinger  archly.  "  Have  you  forgotten  our  com- 
pact ?"  she  wud.  "  You  were  to  call  me,  Laura." 

"  I  stand  corrected,"  replied  the  planter ;  "  but  my  poor  brow  is  so  crowd- 
ed with  every  day  matters  that  it  scarcely  has  sufficient  room  to  retain  more 
special  memories." 

"  But  Neil,  how  comes  it  that  in  Mr.  Brofield,  of  Charleston,  I  find  my 
old  playfellow,  Neil  Sorners  ?" 

"  Ah!"  returned  the  planter  pleasantly,  "that  is  a  secret  which  I  may  re- 
veal without  fe&r  that  either  my  country  or  myself  will,  suffer  by  confiding  it 
to  your  ear."  He  then  detailed  to  her  all  with  which  the  reader  is  already 
familiar. 

Mrs.  Brunton  heard  him  to  the  end  without  once  breaking  in  upon  his 
narrative.  She  then  observed — 

"  Oh,  Neil !  is  this  true  that  you  are  telling  me  ?  Is  the  tide  of  our  poor 
county's  cause  at  so  critical  an  ebb  ?" 

"  Alas,  Laura,  I  have  not  told  you  the  half,"  returned  the  planter,  mourn- 
fully. "  I  would  not  pain  your  womanly  ear  with  horrors  which  appal  the 
stoutest  hearted  of  our  army." 

"  It  is  poverty,  then,  with  which  the  cause  has  most  to  struggle,  and  not 
the  enemy?" 

"  Yes,  Laura ;  but  poverty  in  its  Inost  trying  shades ;  poverty  in  men,  po- 
verty in  arms,  in  food,  in  raiment,  and  almost  in  courage.  Gloom  and  dark- 
ness are  upon  u^.  Woe  meets  us  at  every  baud.  Despondency,  save  in  a 
few  isolated  hearts,  has  settled  upon  our  troops." 

"I  can  understand  it  all,  Neil,"  replied  Mrs.  Brunton,  feelingly;  "for  I 
have  watched  our  country's  every  step.  I  have  sympathized  with  her  in  her 
reverses,  I  have  rejoiced  with  her  in  her  triumphs.  If  I  were  a  man  my 
hand  should  be  with  her ;  but  as  I  am  a  woman,  I  can  but  give  her  my  sym- 
pathies. Heaven  has  blessed  me  with  means,  and  if  I  cannot  give  her  my 
own  aid,  I  can  at  least  give  that  which  will  ensure  her  the  services  of  others. 
How  comes  it,  Neil,"  she  added  with  playful  reproach,  "  you  did  not 
allow  me  the  honor,  last  night,  to  add  my  mite  to  the  fund  you  were  raising 
for  the  cause  ?" 

"Laura,"  returned  the  planter,  "  I  knew  not  you  were  there  till  Mr.  Wil- 
ton so  kindly  introduced  me.  I  might  say  that  I  had  neither  eyes  nor  ears 
for  any  that  were  there,  since  they  enabled  me  not,  of  their  own  instinct,  to 
discover  a  friend  so  dear  to  me  as  my  old  playfellow." 

"A  very  lame  excuse !"  returned  the  widow  witli  charming  vivacity. 
"You  were  not  so  very,  very  confused,  either!  for  did  I  not  perceive  your 
eyes  wandering  among  the  commandant's  fairer  guests  as  if  in  search  of  the 
loveliest  flower  there  T 

"  Had  I  seen  my  old  playfellow.  I  could  not  have  been  long  in  doubt  upon 
that  point !"  returned  the  planter,  gallantly. 

"  Ah !  flatterer,  you  would  not  have  said  that  at  the  ball,  where  our  city's 
beauties  shone  like  so  many  queens  !" 


OF    MARION    AND   HIS    MERRY    MEN.  179 

"  Not  only  there,  but  before  all  the  world  I  would  say  it,  and  maintain  it" 

The  widow  blushed.  Her  eyes  sparkled.  "  Oh,  Neil,"  she  exclaimed,  sur- 
veying him  with  a  mingled  expression  of  joy  and  sadness,  "  could  I  but  be- 
lieve your  heart  and  not  your  lips  spoke  thus  !" 

"  Both,  Laura,"  returned  the  planter.     "  Why  should  you  doubt  it?" 

"  Because,"  said  the  widow,  dropping  her  eyes  with  artful  coquetry,  "  that 
would  be  the  sentiment  of  a  lover !" 

"A  lover !"  repeated  the  planter,  with  a  slight  start.  "  Oh!  no — not  if  it 
came  from  me !"  he  added  in  a  tone  which  informed  the  widow  that  her 
secret  was  understood.  She  raised  her  eyes  and  stole  a  glance  at  her  com- 
panion. There  was  a  shadow  on  his  brow,  at  sight  of  which  her  counte- 
nance changed  to  the  hue  of  marble. 

"I  am  lost!"  she  murmured,  inaudibly.  "He  loves  me  not.  Amy  still 
holds  his  heart.  There  is  no — no  hope  for  me !'' 

The  planter  reflected  a  moment  He  could  mistake  neither  the  words,  the 
tone,  the  look,  nor  the  manner  of  his  companion.  He  comprehended  intui- 
tively the  secret  which  it  must  be  confessed,  the  firr  widow  took  but  little 
pains  to  conceal. 

"  I  stand  upon  slippery  ground  !"  he  ejaculated,  mentally.  "  Hers  is  too 
noble  a  heart  to  trifle  with,  or  deceive.  I  have  but  one  course  to  take — that 
of  honor.  I  owe  it  to  her,  to  myself!  Laura,"  he  began,  aloud,  "it  appears 
I  have,  without  meaning  it,  beguiled  you  into  a  snare — that  I  have  given  you 
cause  for  believing  sentiments  which  were  those  of  friendship  only,  to  be 
those  of  a  tenderer  nature.  If  I  have  done  this,  it  has,  believe  me,  been  un- 
wittingly. My  troth  already  given  to  one,  it  would  be  the  height  of  pre- 
sumption in  me  to  offer,  or  to  in  any  wise  convey  the  impression  that  I  could 
offer  it  to  another.  I  should  grieve  to  learn  that  I  had  done  this,  and  should 
it  reach  her  ears,  she  Avould,  and  justly,  deem  me  false,  treacherous  and  un- 
manly. But  perhaps,"  he  added,  surveying  his  companion  with  a  confused 
smile,  "  I  have  spofen  too  fast — perhaps  my  vanity  has  led  me  too  far.  I 
may  have  no  grounds  for  this.  If  so,  Oh  Laura,  how  you  must  despise  me." 

"  Despise  you,  Neil !"  cried  Mrs.  Brunton.  "  Oh,  dared  I  but  tell  you — 
but  no — you  would  laugh  at  me,  and  you — yes,  you  would  despise  me.  I — I 
— "  She  paused.  Her  lip  trembled,  and  dropping  her  eyes,  she  burst  into 
tears. 

"  Laura !"  cried  the  planter. 

"No — no!"  she  exclaimed,  interrupting  him,  "  not  that  word — not  Laura! 
Call  me,"  she  added  with  a  heroic  effort,  "  what  the  world  calls  me !" 

"  Mrs.  Brunton  ?"  said  the  planter,  interrogatively. 

"Yes — Mrs.  Brunton!"  she  added  shiveringly.  She  paused  awhile  to 
recover  herself,  and  then  resumed,  in  a  voice  broken  with  emotion,  "  The 
fault  is  mine,  not  yours  !  I  had  hoped — fondly,  prayerfully,  that  our  desti- 
nies might  not  always  be  divided — that  heaven  might  one  day  give  me  the 
joyous  privilege  of  saying :  Neil,  for  years,  in  silence  and  in  suffering,  I  have 
loved  you — will  love  you  ever !" 

The  planter  staggered  to  a  chair,  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands.  "  I  did 
not  dream  of  this — I  did  not  look  for  it !"  he  cried — "  Oh,  why  did  I  ever 
cross  your  path,  to  create  for  you  this  misery  !" 

"  Think  of  it  not,  Neil !"  returned  Mrs.  "Brunton.  "  The  fault  is  wholly 
mine.  I  should  have  resisted  in  its  beginning  a  passion  which  never  could 
have  had  for  me  a  happy  termination.  Oh!"  she  added,  giving  way  to  her 
feelings,  "  I  knew  that  you  could  never  love  me — that  your  heart  was  fixed 
upon  another — and  yet  I  fondly  hoped  against  hope,  and,  following  the  dic- 
tates of  my  soul's  frenzy,  rashly,  madly  nourished  a  passion  which  consumed 
me  !  Oh  Neil !  for  this— for  this,  forgive  me !" 

With  these  words,  and  overcome  by  the  emotion  which  they  had  inspired,  . 


180  THE    SWAMT    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

she  sank  back  on  the  sofa,  on  which  she  had  been  sitting,  pale,  tremulous  and 
cold. 

The  planter  rose  and  approached  her.  Gently  taking  her  hand,  he  said, 
in  a  voice  that  was  far  from  firm — 

"Let  us  forget  this,  Laura.  Let  us  forget  everything,  the  remembrance  of 
which  might  render  us  unhappy.  We  have  not  love  to  exchange — but  we 
have  friendship,  the  friendship  of  hearts  that  have  known  each  other  from 
childhood  until  now.  Let  us  cherish  that,  for  it  is  pure ;  let  us  forget  the 
other,  for  it  is  unholy.  Heaven  and  Honor  smile  on  the  one,  while  they 
fro-wTn  mournfully  upon  the  other.  Let  us  be  friends,  my  old  schoolfellow — 
let  us  be  friends !" 

The  hand  he  held  pressed  his  spasmodically.  Though  Mrs.  Brunton  was 
pale  and  apparently  bereft  ot  every  sense,  the  planter  yet  felt  that  he  was 
both  heard  and  understood.  He  was  also  conscious  that  it  was  indelicate,  if 
not  absolutely  cruel  to  prolong  a  scene  which  must  have  for  his  companion 
so  much  of  mental  misery.  He  determined  therefore  to  take  his  departure, 
and  thus  leave  her  to  a  free  indulgence  in  emotions  which  he  was  aware 
his  presence  alone  restrained. 

"  It  is  better  that  we  now  part,"  he  added,  tenderly.  "  When  we  meet 
again  it  will  be,  as  in  our  earlier  years,  like  friends !  What  has  transpired 
between  us  shall  never  again  be  alluded  to,  in  word  or  look,  by  me.  Let  us 
mutually  forget  it,  and  look  forward  with  hopeful  hearts  to  the  bright  and 
glorious  future  when  each  shall  be  supremely  happy — you,  Laura,  in  your 
destiny,  I  in  mine  !" 

He  raised  her  cold  hand  respectfully  to  his  lips,  bowed,  and  gracefully  and 
quietly  withdrew. 

Mrs.  Bruntou  followed  his  retreating  form  with  her  eyes  till  he  disappeared. 
She  heard  his  footsteps  echoing  through  the  hall — she  heard  the  door  open 
and  shut  upon  him — and  hope  disappeared  for  ever. 

She  placed  one  hand  upon  her  breast  and  the  other  upon  her  brow,  with 
an  expression  of  intense  agony. 

"  It  is  over !"  she  murmured.  "  The  hope,  the  dream  of  years,  is  at  an 
end !  He  is  gone.  I  have  looked  upon  him  for  the  last  time !  He  is 
another's.  I  am  lost — lost — lost !  A  long,  a  last  farewell  to  hope — to  hap- 
piness !" 

As  if  all  the  agony  of  her  heart  had  been  concentrated  in  these  words — as 
if  they  were  the  last  sigh  of  her  wounded  soul — the  widow  fell  back  upon  the 
sofa  like  one  upon  whose  brow  death  had  set  its  eternal  seal. 


CHAPTER     XXIV. 

DUSK  came,  and  the  planter,  in  the  guise  of  a  common  country  farmer,  and 
mounted  on  his  faithful  swamp  steed,  issued  from  the  stable  yard  of  the  St 
George  Inn,  followed  by  a  train  of  twelve  horses  dragging  six  large,  country 
looking  wagons,  behind  which,  on  the  back  of  his  favorite  cream  colored 
mare,  rode  the  gigantic  form  of  the  scalp  hunter,  wrapped  in  the  rough  garb 
of  a  country  laborer. 

The  train  passed  slowly  out  of  the  city,  and  turning  off  into  one  of  the 
forked  roads,  pursued  its  way  undisturbed  till  it  reached  the  brinks  of  the 
Wando,  where  a  flat  boat  plied  between  either  shore,  and  where  the  planter 
was  suddenly  greeted  by  an  outpost,  with 

"Who  goes  there?" 

"  Friends  to  the  king.*' 

"  Advance  and  give  the  countersign !" 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    KEN.  181 

"  '  The  king's  seal !' " 

"  Pass  on,"  said  the  outpost 

On  reaching  the  opposite  shore,  the  planter  struck  into  a  highroad,  but  had 
not  advanced  more  than  a  mile  or  two  when  he  fancied  he  heard  the  sound 
of  hoofs.  Presently,  the  scalp  hunter,  quitting  his  post  in  the  rear,  rode  up 
and  whispered — 

"  The  varmint  are  on  our  trail !" 

"  What  makes  you  think  so,  Nat  ?" 

"  There's  a  peculiar  ring  in  hoofs  when  they're  chasin'  on  yew,  which,  when 
yew've  once  heera  it,  yew  never  forgit  1" 

"  We  must  hurry  the  horses,  then !  How  many  of  them  are  there,  think 
you  ?" 

"  Not  more'n  a  dozen,  I  reckin  !"  returned  the  scalp  hunter. 

"  Well,"  said  the  planter,  tranquilly,  "  we  must  make  the  best  of  it.  What 
do  you  propose  ?" 

"  I  think,  Neil,  yew  had  better  'tend  to  the  team,  and  let  me  manage  the 
varmint  I  think  I  kin  give  'em  enuff.  More  p'raps  than  they'd  fike  to. 
swaller!" 

"  If  such  is  your  opinion — " 

"  Wall !  I  think  it  ar !" 

"So  be  it  then!"  returned  the  planter,  hurriedly.  "To  your  post,  Nat! 
They  are  nearing  us !" 

With  these  words,  he  raised  a  long  rawhide  and  lightly  touching  the  flanks 
of  one  after  another  of  the  animals  attached  to  the  train,  started  them  into  a 
run,  while  the  scalp  hunter  returned  to  the  rear,  and  throwing  off  the  cover- 
ing of  the  kust^ wagon,  disclosed  a  large  number  of  rifles  whose  long  black 
tubes  were  resting  in  the  hollows  of  a  series  of  cross  boards,  that  ran  from 
side  to  side  of  the  vehicle,  and  were  purposely  indented  to  receive  them. 

In  anticipation  of  trouble  on  their  route,  the  crafty  woodsman  had,  during 
the  day,  loaded  each  of  these  weapons,  and  placed  them  in  then-  present  po- 
sition, to  have  them  ready  in  case  of  need. 

Springing  from  his  mare  into  the  wagon,  he  permitted  the  intelligent  ani- 
mal to  wander  unfettered,  with  the  words— 

"  Now,  old  gal,  show  yer  trainin'  and  don't  shame  yer  breed.  The  inimy 
are  comin ;  be  keerful  the  varmint  don't  tetch  yew.  Keep  on  the  side  of  the 
wagin,  Nell ;  the  old  man  wants  a  clear  field !" 

The  mare  obeyed  her  master's  injunction  to  the  letter,  and  while  she  sprang 
forward  between  the  vehicle  and  the  road  side,  keeping  her  eye  observantly 
upon  her  owner,  the  latter,  standing  between  the  back  board  and  the  serried 
weapons,  seized  a  rifle,  primed  it,  and  then  quietly  awaited  the  approach  and 
action  of  the  foe. 

The  moon  shining  in  all  its  regal  splendor  in  an  unclouded  sky,  rendered 
the  road  almost  as  light  as  day,  and  enabled  the  woodsman  to  perceive  dis- 
tinctly the  forms  of  the  pursuers  who,  to  the  number  of  some  twelve  or  fif- 
teen, and  mounted  on  tall,  powerful  horses,  were  now  rapidly  advancing. 

Meanwhile  the  train,  urged  on  by  the  energetic  efforts  of  the  planter,  con- 
tinued its  flight  with  gradually  increasing  speed. 

li  We're 'goin  at  a  slick  rate,"  muttered  the  scalp  hunter,  "but  not  quite 
fast  enuff  to  escape  the  blood  thirsty  varmint  behind  us.  They're  gainin'  on 
us  every  minit,  and  will  soon  be  round  our  ears  like  a  swarm  of  bees.  But 
there's  one  on  'em  a  lee  tie  ahead  of  his  friends.  He  wunt  be  thar'  long  tho,1 
ef  this  creeter  kin  hold  its  head  any  weres  near  old  Sal.  I'll  jest  see  what 
metal  she's  made  on !" 

He  raised  the  weapon  to  his  shoulder,  ran  his  eye  along  the  tube,  and 
pulled  the  trigger. 

The  report  had  scarcely  followed,  when  the  advancing  horseman  alluded  to 


182  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR.   THE    DAYS 

relaxed  his  hold  of  the  bridle,  and  slipped  like  a  drunken  man  from  his  sad- 
dle. 

The  party  paused  a  few  moments  in  some  confusion ;  a  few  leapt  to  the 
earth  and  surrounded  the  fallen  man. 

"Yew  needn't  give  yourselves  any  anxiety  on  that  sarpint's  account," 
muttered  the  woodsman,  replacing  the  weapon  and  taking  up  another,  which 
he  quietly  primed.  "  I  aimed  for  his  for'ard,  and  ef  it  aint  split,  then  there's 
no  vertu  in  lead !" 

The  pursuers,  having  no  doubt  discovered  this  to  be  the  case,  now  shook 
their  sabres  threateningly  at  the  scalp  hunter,  and  resumed  the  chase. 

As  they  approached,  the  latter  raised  his  weapon,  and  singling  out  the 
nearest  rider,  fired.  The  poor  wretch  dropped  from- his  saddle,  and  again  for 
a  brief  season  there  was  a  temporary  and  confused  halt. 

"  There's  two  on  'em  gone  to  kingdum  cum !"  ejaculated  the  woodsman, 
catching  up  another  rifle,  and  priming  it.  "  They  make  pretty  good  marks, 
considerin' !"  he  added,  bringing  the  weapon  to  his  shoulder.  "  The  varmint 
air  kinder  skeered.  They  don't  'pear  to  like  the  barkin'  of  these  pieces.  Ah ! 
they  air  goin'  to  try  it  agin !  There's  one  on  'em  about  to  spring  into  hia 
saddle.  I  reckin  he  wunt  du  it  so  easy  as  he  thinks  fer !" 

He  pulled  the  trigger  of  his  gun,  and  the  man  threw  up  his  hands,  his  foot 
fell  from  the  stirrup,  and  he  fell  back  upon  the  road. 

"That's  number  three!"  said  the  planter  as  he  exchanged  his  weapon. 
"  They'll  all  hev  some'n  tu  tell  on  by  the  time  they  git  back  to  Charles' on ! 
There  they  cum,  like  so  menny  hungry  wolves.  I  must  give  that  tall  'un  a 
pill,  jest  to  keep  him  from  shakin'  that  arm  of  his' n,  in  that  air  onsightly  way. 
There  he  goes!"  he  added,  with  a  quiet  grin,  and  taking  up  another  piece,  as 
the  individual  in  question  sprang  with  a  gesture  of  affright  from  his  horse 
and  fell  to  the  earth,  the  hoofs  of  those  behind  treading  over  his  body  as 
they  passed. 

"  There's  four  on  'em  for  the  crows !"  muttered  the  woodsman,  "  and  the 
tarnal  fools  'will  keep  cumin'  on,  blast  'em  !  Wall,  I'll  jest  tetch  that  critter 
with  the  eperlets — he  looks  mighty  sassy — rale  officer  like.  His  fall  will  make 
'em  halt  agin,  or  there  ain't  no  more  respeck  for  the  cloth!" 

There  was  a  sharp  report,  and  the  officer  glided  from  his  saddle. 

"  I  knew  it !"  exclaimed  the  scalp  hunter,  hastily  changing  his  piece,  as 
the  pursuers  held  up  and  gathered  around  their  fellow  officer.  "  Nuthin' 
brings  'em  tu  so  quick  as  the  fall  of  an  eperlette.  Had  it  bin  a  common  so- 
ger  now,  the  sarpints  wouldn't  a  minded  it  a  bit.  But  an  eperlette  kinder 
tetehes  'em !  Now,  then,  if  Neil  only  keeps  the  team  agoin'  at  this  rate,  we'll 
hold  the  blasted  cusses  at  a  markin'  distance  !  Ah !  the  varmint  are  shakin' 
their  fists  this  way.  They  don't  approve  of  lead,  I  'spose.  I  wouldn't,  ef  I 
war  in  their  place !  But  that  slinky  standin'  beside  the  body  needn't  menace 
a  critter  in  that  onchristian  way.  There's  no  pertickler  need  on't,  that  I  kin 
make  out!  But  seein'  as  he  don't  know  manners,  I'll  teach  him  some! 
There  !"  he  added,  with  a  loud  laugh,  as  the  personage  to  whom  he  referred 
fell  forward  on  the  body  of  the  officer,  "  the  sarpint  's  oncivil  to  the  last ! 
Strikin'  his  superior  officer  in  that  way  would  ensure  him  a  court-marshill,  ef 
he  warn't  already  beyond  the  reach  of  punishment !  Ha!"  he  continued,  re- 
placing his  gun  and  taking  up  another,  "  the  critters  air  resolved  on  havin' 
more  lead !  They're  fond  of  it,  I  reckin',  or  else  the  smell  of  blood  has 
worked  their  feelins  up.  That  sarpint  a  leadin'  on  'em  flourishes  his  weepon 
kinder  fierce,  as  ef  he  didn't  mind  a  drop  of  lead  the  least  mite.  I'll  jest  try 
what  he's  made  on.  'Twunt  du  enny  harm !" 

He  pulled  the  trigger,  and  the  man  reined  up  with  such  suddenness  as  to 
almost  throw  his  horse  upon  his  haunches.  When  the  animal  had  again 
righted,  the  saddle  was  empty. 

"  He  kinder  backs  down  to  them  air  licks — spills  himself  clean  !''  exclaimed 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN  183 

the  scalp  hunter,  with  a  quiet  chuckle  1  "I  suspected  as  much.  Lead  has 
the  persuadinest  way  of  bringin'  a  sarpint  to  terms  tliat  ever  was  heered  on, 
perticklerly  ef  it's  in  the  hands  of  a  critter  who  knows  how  to  handle  it.  Go 
it,  Neil — go  it,  boy — tetch  up  the  animals — give  'em  the  hide,  the  varmint 
air  rippin'  up  to  us  like  painters!  There's  a  sarpint,  now — he's  a  leetle  too 
near  for  comfort.  There's  good  grit  in  him,  for  I  kin  see  the  fire  flashin'  from 
his  eyes ;  but  he  must  drop.  He'd  give  me  too  much  trouble,  ef  I  'lowed  him 
to  bekum  familiar  with  this  wagin,  and  he  must  slide  to  kingdom  cum !" 

He  levelled  his  piece,  and  the  soldier,  a  tall,  handsomely  made  man,  reeled 
for  a  moment  in  his  saddle,  and  then  fell  over  on  one  side,  his  head  and  right 
foot  striking  the  earth,  and  his  left  hanging  yet  in  the  stirrup,  and  his  spur 
goading  the  flanks  of  his  horse.  The  animal  at  first  disturbed,  then  angered, 
and  finally  frenzied  by  this  position  of  ite  owner,  as  well  as  by  the  tearing 
operation  of  the  spur  upon  its  flesh,  wheeled  violently,  first  to  the  right  and 
then  to  the  left,  in  wild  efforts  to  shake  off  the  body,  staggering  the  horse- 
men on  either  side  and  throwing  the  whole  party  into  the  utmost  confusion. 

"  There's  eight  on  em !"  cried  the  scalp  hunter,  exultantly,  seizing  and  another 
gun.  "  The  varmint  hev  the  onohristianest  idees ;  they  will  cum  tearin'  on 
as  ef  they  liked  it !  Wall,  ef  they  want  take  warnin'  by  what  they've  al- 
ready seen — ef  they  du  like  to  leave  their  meat  upon  the  road,  they  shan't  be 
disappinted.  They're  gittin  altogether  tu  near  for  me  to  be  pertickler!"  He 
levelled  his  piece,  pulled  the  trigger,  and  the  foremost  rider  fell  from  his  sad- 
dle. "  Chain  lightnin'  couldn't  have  spilled  him  quicker !"  observed  the 
woodsman,  quietly  returning  his  piece  and  taking  up  another.  "  The  other 
varmint  are  comin'  on  at  a  tearin  rate,  though !  I  wonder  who  in  thunder 
that  puke  is  in  -the  dark  coat  in  the,  rear  ?  Ef  he  would  only  step  out  a  little 
I'd  give  him  a  salute — he  'pears  to  be  shy  on !  That  strapper  on  the  white 
horse  looks  as  ef  made  by  natur'  to  measure  his  length  han'sum  !  The  sar- 
pint seems  anxious.  He  leans  for'ard  as  ef  he'd  like  a  pill,  orful.  Well,  I'm 
willin' !"  He  fired,  and  the  man  fell  back  on  the  hind  quarters  of  his  steed 
as  though  stricken  by  a  thunderbolt ;  a  moment  or  two  later,  his  feet  became 
free  from  the  stirrups,  and  he  pitched  head  first  to  the  earth.  ''  That  wern't 
bad !"  observed  the  deadly  marksman,  with  a  chuckle,  as  he  changed  his  gun. 
"  Old  Sal  herself  couldn't  hev  done  it  better !  There  aint  but  four  on  'em 
left,  and  I  kinder  reckin  I'll  take  it  easy.  Ef  they  had  any  thing  but  sabres 
now,  what  a  prime  mark  the  varmint  would  hev.  There  aint  more'n  forty 
yards  atween  us !  Cuss  that  puke  in  the  dark  coat !  Ef  he  would  but  step 
a  leetle,  jest  a  leetle,  out  from  the  rear  of  his  friends,  he  would  do  me  such  a 
favor !  But  the  cussed  sarpint  knows  better,  blast  him !  He  'pears  to  be 
nrgin'  the  others  on,  or  else  his  horse  meat  aint  equal  to  the  rest — it's  one  or 
the  tother,  I'll  swan  to  it!  There  he  goes,  bobbin'  behind  the  other  varmint 
as  ef  he  knew  the  vallee  of  lus  hide.  The  cussed  puke !  I'd  take  a  pill  of 
lead  myself  for  a  fair  shot  at  him !  I'll  rip  that  sarpint  before  him,  p'raps  it'll 
clear  the  way !"  As  he  spoke,  he  lifted  up  his  piece,  and  the  personage  al- 
mded  to  slipped  quietly  from  his  steed,  reeled  a  moment,  and  then  fell,  out- 
stretched upon  the  road. 

"  There's  only  three  on  'em  left !"  muttered  the  scalp  hunter.  <;  and  tliat 
cussed  puke  still  skulks  behind !  Wall,"  he  added  cheerfully,  taking  up  an- 
other rifle,  ''grumblin'  wunt  mend  matters.  Another  shot  will  cut  off  one  of 
his  guards,  and  then  he'll  Jiev  to  show  himself!  And  then  jest  let  him  look 
out  for  spiders !  I'll  drop  that  sarpint  on  the  left !" 

He  raised  his  rifle,  and  was  about  to  pull  the  trigger  when  a  quick,  sudden" 
jolt  of  the  wagon  pitched  him  out  upon  the  road. 

This  was  perceived  by  his  pursuers,  who  now  with  loud  cries  of  exulting 
triumph  plunged  their  spurs  into  the  flanks  of  their  steeds,  and  dashed  for- 
ward with  renewed  energy  to  cut  him  down.  The  woodsman  made  a  hur- 
ried but  futile  attempt  to  regain  his  position :  failing  in  which,  he  calmly 


184  THE    SWAMP    STEED  J    OR    THE    DAYS 

awaited  the  advance  of  the  three  pursuers,  determined  to  make  the  most  of 
his  last  shot  upon  one,  and  to  try  the  effect  of  his  clubbed  weapon  with  the 
remaining  two. 

The  foremost  horseman,  some  twenty  yards  ahead  of  Ms  companions,  ad- 
vanced with  uplifted  weapon,  pent  teeth,  and  blazing  eyes. 

"Yield,  rebel!"  he  cried. 

"  I  don't  know  the  word !"  returned  the  woodsman,  quietly  raising  his  rifle 
and  pulling  the  trigger. 

The  trooper  uttered  a  quick  groan,  and  slid  from  his  saddle  just  as  his  un- 
checked horse  dashed  up  to  his  destroyer.  Quick  as  thought,  the  latter  seized 
the  animal  by  the  bridle,  and  with  one  bound  was  upon  his  back. 

The  two  remaining  pursuers  were  now  hard  upon  him.  Scarcely  ten 
yards  intervened  between  them.  Clubbing  his  weapon,  the  burly  woods- 
man, rising  in  his  stirrups,  intrepidly  awaited  their  approach. 

A  moment,  and  the  last  soldier  of  the  party  was  upon  him ;  but  an  instant 
later,  and  he  fell  to  the  earth,  his  head  almost  battered  from  his  shoulders,  by 
a  rude,  crushing  blow  from  the  scalp  hunter's  rifle. 

The  contest  was  at  length  decided.  The  destruction  of  the  last  trooper 
was  a  warning  which  the  personage  in  the  dark  coat  appeared  far  from  dis- 
inclined to  profit  by.  Without  waiting  to  follow  in  his  turn  with  an  attack 
upon  the  invincible  woodsman,  he  wheeled  his  horse,  when  within  about  five 
yards  of  the  doughty  hero,  and  drove  off  with  swiftest  speed ;  but  not  till 
the  latter  had  recognised  in  his  bold  and  haughty  lineaments  the  well  known 
features  of  Richard  Winter ! 

"  The  cussed  puke !"  exclaimed  the  scalp  hunter,  with  a  cry  of  rage.  "  He 
of  all  varmint  in  the  world !  Oh,  ef  this  rifle  war  but  loaded !  Twas  he 
who  brought  the  troup  arter  us!  'Twas  he— the  pizin  sarpint! — who — 0! 
I  see  it  aU,  clear  as  day ! — reachin'  the  city  jest  after  our  departure,  and 
hearin'  on  our  description,  blabbed  the  hull  affair !  And  I — I,  like  a  big  fool, 
'lowed  him — him,  of  all  the  party — to  escape !  Wall,  cryin'  won't  mend  mat- 
ters. But  the  nest  time  he  comes  within  reach  of  gun-shot,  jest  let  him  look 
out  for  spiders !" 

He  wheeled  his  horse  about,  to  'follow  the  train,  whose  rumbling  roar,  as  it 
sped  safely  over  the  road,  restored,  in  some  degree,  his  native  humor.  As 
he  turned,  he  beheld  a  face  more  familiar  to  him  than  his  own,  and  two 
large  eyes  surveying  him  'with  a  half  joyous,  half  reproachful  expression. 

They  were  those  of  his  cream  colored  mare. 

"Ah!  old  gal! "he  cried,  "yew  thought  I'd  forgotten  yew — eh?  It 
makes  yew  jealous  to  see  me  on  this  critter's  back,  does  it?  Wall,  old  lady !" 
he  continued,  dismounting  from  the  captured  horse,  and  springing  into  his 
own  saddle,  "  I'm  reasonable,  yew  see !  I've  no  idee  of  makin'  yew  uneasy — 
not  the  least  mite  !  We'll  take  this  gentleman  along — yew  needn't  shake 
yer  head,  old  gal !  he  is  a  genteel  creeter — and  tackle  him  to  the  train.  Ah ! 
that  tickles  yew,  does  it  ?  Wall,  then,  show  yer  gratitude  and  trainin' ! 
Now,  Nell — now,  old  gal — now !" 

In  an  instant  the  old  lady  stretched  herself — in  another,  she  was  dashing 
along  the  road  with  a  speed  which  gave  the  ''  genteel  creeter"  a  very  high 
opinion  of  her  fleet  qualities,  and  a  very  low  idea  of  his  own. 

The  scalp  hunter  was  in  a  short  time  beside  the  planter,  to  whom  he  gave 
a  brief  account  of  his  combat  with  their  pursuers,  of  the  discovery  he  had 
made  in  the  shape  of  Richard  Winter,  and  of  his  earnest  determination  to 
give  that  personage  "  a  pill "  if  he  should  ever  come  within  reaching  dis- 
tance of  his  rifle. 

"His  time  will  come  soon,  Nat!"  observed  Somers,  tranquilly.  "The 
measure  of  his  iniquity  is  full  And  I— do  you  hear  it  Nat  ? — I — I  feel  it ! — 
shall  be  the  instrument  to  inflict  upon  him  the  wrath  of  Divine  Justice  !M 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  185 

The  train  reached  its  destination  without  further  interruption,  and  its  two 
conductors  were  received  by  Marion  and  his  officers  with  every  mark  of 
honor  and  applause. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

MARION  now  called  in  his  men,  gave  them  money  for  their  families,  and 
clothing  for  themselves ;  and  having  thus  inspired  them  with  new  courage, 
distributed  ameng  them  the  fresh  supply  of  arms,  broke  up  hi?  camp,  and 
struck  for  the  high  hilld  of  San  tee,  where  General  Greene  was  impatiently 
awaiting  him. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  intrepid  partisan,  General  Greene  instantly  set  his 
forces  in  motion  for  Eutaw  Springs,  where  Colonel  Stuart,  with  a  British 
force  of  about  three  thousand  men,  had  entrenched  himself  for  the  purpose  of 
over-aweing  the  rebels  in  that  section  of  the  province. 

Colonel  Stuart,  on  learning  the  approach  of  the  Americans,  hurriedly 
drew  up  his  army  to  give  them  battle.  One  detachment  was  posted  on  the 
right  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  Springs  :  a  second  occupied  the  cen- 
tre ;  a  third  was  planted  on  the  left.  The  right  was  flanked  by  three  hun- 
dred choice  troops,  sheltered  by  a  dense  wood ;  the  left  was  sustained  by  a 
large  force  of  cavalry  and  a  body  of  infantry. 

In  the  rear  of  the  central  troops  was  a  large,  strong  two  story  brick  dwell- 
ing, together  with  a  palisaded  garden,  once  entrenched  in  which  a  small 
party  of  well  armed  men  could  maintain  themselves  against  a  host. 

The  British  leader  saw  at  once  the  advantages  of  the  house  and  garden, 
and  instructed  one  of  his  officers  to  take  possession  of  them  in  the  event  of 
an  unfavorable  issue,  and  from  the  windows  of  the  building,  which  command- 
ed the  whole  field,  and  the  palisades  of  the  garden,  which  afforded  at  once 
a  shelter  and  a  view,  to  pour  down  a  fire  which  would  cover  his  troops  in 
their  retreat. 

General  Greene  advanced  steadily  with  his  forces,  but  as  the  country 
around  was  woody  in  its  character,  his  progress  was  necessarily  slow.  When 
without  about  two  miles  of  the  Springs,  he  came  upon  a  detachment  sent  out 
by  the  British  commander  to  arrest  his  march,  to  give  the  latter  time  to  form 
his  hastily  formed  squadron.-;  into  a  better  order  of  battle. 

The  British  advance  troop*  after  a  brief  contest  with  the  superior  divisions 
of  General  Greene,  turned  on  their  heels  and  fled  with  all  speed  back  to  th'e 
general  line,  under  whoso  guns  they  took  shelter,  while  the  pursuing  column, 
under  the  command  of  Marion,  suddenly  found  itself,  on  emerging  from  the 
wood,  face  to  face  with  the  entire  British  force. 

Without  pausing,  however,  the  intrepid  partisan  instantly  formed  his  mus- 
keteers into  two  divisions,  and  his  riflemen  into  a  third.  The  first  he  took 
under  his  own  charge,  the  latter  he  consigned  to  the  planter.  Then  giving 
the  word,  he  advanced  upon  the  foe,  and  opened  the  conflict.  In  an  instant 
the  front  ranks  of  the  Britteh  went  down  before  his  unerring  fire,  while  the 
ah-,  thick  with  smoke,  rang  with  the  cries  of  the  wounded  and  the  wails  of 
the  dying. 

The  entire  line  of  the  enemy  brought  its  guns  to  bear  upon  the  heroic 
band,  who,  disregarding  the  lAil  of  bullets  thus  poured  upon  them,  con- 
tinued to  advance  with  a  calm,  intrepid  step,  closer  and  more  close,  till  they 
were  almost  under  the  very  guns  of  the  foe,  who  now  rushed  forward  in 
squadrons  to  surround  them.  Seeing  the  peril  of  their  position,  General 
Greene  ordered  up  another  column  to  protect  them,  which  latter  was  met 

24 


I8fj  THE    SWAMP    STEED    ;    OR.    THE    DAYS 

by  the  British  troops  on  the  left,  and  the  action  now  raged  with  intense 
rhry. 

Before  the  deadly  fire  of  Marion's  musketeers  and  the  planter's  riflemen, 
the  enemy  dropped  like  leaves  before  the  winds  of  autumn.  The  British  colo- 
nel perceiving  the  necessity  of  crushing  a  column  which  was  mowing  down 
his  best  men  in  heaps,  threw  forward  a  division  thrice  its  own  size,  to  crush 
it ;  but  in  vain — the  division  reeled  before  its  murderous  hail,  which  no  hu- 
man endurance  could  resist  and  fell  back,  shorn  of  its  strength,  while  the  he- 
roic column  continued  its  calm,  intrepid  advance  upon  the  line  on  the 
right. 

At  the  same  time,  General  Greene  hurled  another  squadron  upon  the  ene- 
my's centre,  a  third  to  the  support  of  the  dauntless  Marion,  and  launching  ano- 
ther through  the  wood  to  the  right,  for  the  purpose  of  falling  on  the  ene- 
my's left  flank. 

Attacked  thus  on  all  sides,  the  British  commander  scarcely  knew  which 
way  to  turn.  He  at  length  brought  up  his  reserve  legion,  which  had  been 
concealed  in  a  piece  of  wood  behind  his  right  line,  and  threw  it  with  great 
impetuosity  upon  the  squadron  ordered  to  the  relief  of  Marion.  But  this 
movement  was  perceived  in  time  by  General  Greene,  who  hurried  up  a  bat- 
tallion  of  musketeers  to  meet  and  drive  it  back.  The  two  forces  met  with  a 
shock  which  for  a  moment  made  either  party  stagger.  The  next  instant,  the 

n1  ter's  riflemen  resumed  their  deadly  fire  upon  the  immense  mass  of  human 
thus  presented  by  the  enemy ;  the  musketeers  following  their  example, 
,  the  British  squadrons,  reeling  under  the  frightful  severity  of  a  fire  which  they 
could  not  equal  nor  withstand,  and  perceiving  their  companions  falling 
around  them  like  leaves  in  autumn,  became  panic  stricken,  fell  back,  turned 
upon  their  heels  in  the  direction  of  the  central  line,  and  fled. 

The  British  centre,  thus  invaded  by  the  fugitives,  and  pressed  upon  by  the 
columns  hurled  previously  upon  it  by  General  Greene,  trembled  before  the 
combined  shock,  and  scarcely  knew  whether  to  stand  or  fly.  The  American 
squadrons,  taking  advantage  of  their  confusion,  poured  in  half-a-dozen  fierce 
discharges,  which  speedily  brought  it  to  a  decision.  It  broke  in  every  direc- 
tion, wheeled,  and  the  men  throwing  down  their  weapons,  took  to  flight. 

The  officer  instructed  by  colonel  Stuart,  conceiving  that  now  was  the  time 
to  take  possession  of  the  house  and  palisaded  garden,  gave  his  troops  an  order 
to  that  effect,  and  being  some  distance  ahead  of  the  fugitives,  threw  himself 
into  the  building  with  three  hundred  men,  and  flinging  up  the  windows, 
poured  down  a  sudden  and  murderous  fire  upon  the  pursuers,  who  reeled 
before  it  for  a  moment,  and  then,  while  a  part  of  their  number  continued  the 
pursuit,  returned  the  fire.  The  windows  of  the  house  were  speedily  filled 
with  dead  and  wounded,  but  the  latter  were  quickly  replaced  by  fresh 
troops,  before  whose  terrible  fire  nothing  human  could  long  stand  and 
live. 

The  Americans  rained  their  bullets  upon  the  building  without  making  any 
impression  upon  its  thick,  stout  walls.  At  length  four  pieces  of  cannon,  cap- 
tured during  the  action  from  the  enemy,  were  drawn  up  before  the  dwelling 
and  brought  to  bear  upon  it  But  even  this  was  of  no  avail.  The  massive 
front  laughed  equally  to  scorn  the  puny  bullet  and  the  iron  ball ;  while  one 
after  another  of  the  artillery  men  went  down  before  the  raking  shower  hurled 
by  the  troops  from  every  window  and  loophole  of  the  pile. 

After  satisfying  himself  that  all  further  Attempts  to  dislodge  the  British 
from  their  impregnable  position  would  only  end  in  a  useless  slaughter  of  his 
men  without  extending  his  chances  of  ultimate  success,  the  American  gene- 
ral called  off  his  troops,  collected  his  wounded,  caught  up  his  prisoners, 
amounting  to  five  hundred,  and,  with  the  determination  to  renew  the  battle 
on  the  following  morning,  retired  to  a  distance  of  about  seven  miles,  there 
being  no  water  neare*  to  refresh  his  fainting  columns. 


0V    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  187 

The  British  slept  upon  the  field  on  the  night  succeeding  the  battle.  But 
they  had  suffered  most  disastrously  in  the  conflict.  Their  best  troopg,  their 
bravest  officers  were  among  the  slain,  who  covered  the  ground  in  heaps. 
Colonel  Stuart  was  in  despair ;  and  well  he  might  be,  for  well  he  knew 
that  the  British  power  in  Carolina  was  exterminated,  root  and  branch,  by 
this  fierce  battle.  He  was  himself  badly  wounded,  and  on  learning  that  it 
was  General  Greene's  intention  to  resume  the  combat  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, he  resolved  to  prevent  it,  by  making  a  precipitate  retreat.  He  allowed 
his  men  to  sleep  till  about  two  o'clock,  when  he  summoned  them  from  their 
tents,  broke  up  a  thousand  stand  of  arm?,  destroyed  his  stores,  and  leaving 
his  dead  unburied,  and  his  wounded  to  the  enemy,  commenced  a  rapid  and 
circuitous  flight. 

This  was  the  last  battle  of  any  moment  in  the  southern  province?.  A  few- 
petty  skirmishes  followed,  but  none  of  sufficient  consequence  to  claim  a  place 
in  history. 

The  capture  and  capitulation,  a  few  weeks  later,  of  the  British  commander- 
in-chief  was  received  by  the  colonies  with  every  demonstration  of  rejoicing. 
On  the  receipt  of  the  intelligence  at  Charleston,  the  enemy  made  instant  pre- 
parations to  evacuate  the  city.  The  soldiers  of  freedom  congratulated  each 
other  upon  this  happy  result  of  their  long  and  trying  labors,  and  looked  for- 
ward with  joy  to  the  hour  of  the  departure  of  the  foe,  when  they  should  be 
honorably  released  from  the  harness  of  battle,  and  permitted  to  return  once 
again  to  their  business  pursuits  and  the  peaceful  enjoyment  of  their  fire- 
sides. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  announcement  of  the  intended  evacuation  of  Charleston  by  the  Brit- 
ish troops,  flew  like  wildfire  through  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  province, 
and  was  received  by  the  people  with  demonstrations  of  patriotic  joy. 

Old  men,  who,  worn  out  by  age,  labor  and  affliction,  had  not  left  their 
rooms  for  years,  became  suddenly  imbued  with  a  spirit  of  youth  on  hearing 
the  glad  tidings.  Matrons,  gray-haired  with  age,  trial  and  sorrow,  and  who 
had  mourned  over  brave  sons  cut  down  in  freedom's  stormiest  conflicts,  were 
inspired  with  joy  that  their  sons  had  not  fallen  in  vain,  and  with  pride  that 
they  who  had  robbed  them  of  their  loved  ones  were  at  length  compelled  to 
bend  their  haughty  necks  and  retreat  in  shame  from  the  land  they  had  sought 
to  enslave.  Middle  aged  men  who  had  grown  old  before  their  time,  amid 
privation  at  the  fireside,  and  in  the  camp — who  had  toiled  in  disheartening 
fields  for  bread,  and  who  had  fought  through  long  years  of  gloom  in  fields 
still  more  disheartening  for  freedom — that  freedom  which  was  at  length  to 
rear  its  banner  over  them  on  the  mountain  and  the  plain,  shook  off  their 
sternness  at  the  gratifying  news,  and  smiled  with  proud  joy  as  in  their  sunny 
youth.  Young  men.  who  had,  almost  from  boyhood,  been  reared  amid  bat- 
tJe's  thickest  smoke,  and  fought  bravely  as  older  warriors  amidst  its  wildest 
din,  bounded  at  the  cheering  news,  and  rent  the  air  with  enthusiastic  cries. 
Widows  forgot,  for  a  momont,  the  gallant  husbands  that  they  mourned,  and 
wreathed  their  faces  in  glad  smiles  a?  they  heard  the  happy  tidings.  Maidens 
weeping  for  lovers  slain,  dried  for  a  time  their  tears,  and  became  radiant  once 
again  with  smiles,  as  the  inspiring  news  broke  softly  on  their  ears.  Children 
danced,  shouted,  capered  and  screamed  with  wild  delight,  and  shared  equally 
with  their  parents  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the  hour. 

The  proud,  the  happy,  the  solemn  day  at  length  came  round,  and  Charles- 
tok  presented  an  animating  sight  All  ages,  ranks,  professions  and  occupa- 


188  THE    SWAMP   STEED  J    OR    THE    DATS 

tions,  from  every  quarter  of  the  province,  crowded  the  avenues,  thorough- 
fares, by  ways,  fences,  windows,  steeples  and  housetops,  with  exulting  joy, 
to  witness  the  departure  of  the  enemy. 

Every  countenance  in  the  crowd  was  alive  with  pride  and  triumph.  Bach 
man  looked  at  his  neighbor  with  gratulatioa  and  unspeakable  joy ;  for  they 
whose  name  was,  in  that  day,  the  synonyme  of  all  that  was  dark,  cruel, 
treacherous  and  false — the  British! — were  about  to  leave  forever  the  shores 
they  had  disgraced,  were  about  to  bid  an  eternal  adieu  to  the  land  they  had 
incarnadined  with  blood ! 

When  it  was  announced  that  the  hour  had  come  for  the  hated  enemy  to 
take  up  their  march  for  the  ships  awaiting  them  in  the  bay,  a  thrill  of  inspirit- 
ingjoy  pervaded  every  heart;  and  when  at  length  the  object  of  this  univer- 
sal execration  appeared  in  lineal  procession,  on  their  way  to  the  vessels 
which  were  to  transport  them  back  to  their  own  land,  there  uprose  from  the 
hearts  to  the  lips,  of  the  multitude,  and  from  their  lips  to  the  earth's  great 
dome,  a  shout  of  gratitude  to  the  Ruler  of  the  Universe,  for  that  He  had 
shora  their  enemy  of  his  strength,  and  lifted  them  from  the  darkness  and 
the  gyves  of  suffering  and  bondage  to  the  light  and  happiness  of  unfettered 
freedom. 

And  they,  the  enemy,  looked  meek,  lowly  and  abashed,  as  they  passed 
down  to  their  ships.  Their  foreheads  were  bowed  with  a  consciousness  of 
their  deep  shame ;  their  steps  faltering  with  a  sense  of  their  humiliation  and 
abasement ;  their  eyes  cast  down  by  the  knowledge  that  of  the  ten  thousand 
beings  gazing  at  them  from  every  hand,  not  one  looked  down  upon  them 
with .  sympathy — not  one  of  all  that  vast  throng  but  regarded  them  with 
fierce  unmeasured  scorn :  not  one  of  that  heterogenous  assemblage  but  ex- 
ecrated them  for  their  crimes,  their  wanton  crueltiesr-reprobating  them  as 
wretches,  whose  infamous  atrocities  had  sunk  them  below  the  level  of  hu- 
manity. For  they  could  not  cast  up  their  eyes  without  beholding  widows 
whom  they  had  widowed,  orphans  whom  they  had  orphaned,  childless  parents 
whom  they  had  made  childless,  and  not  in  fair,  manly,  honorable  fight,  either : 
but  in  reckless,  beastly,  wanton  cruelty.  They  could  not  listen  without 
hearing  some  lone  widow  sigh  for  barbarities  they  had  committed;  without 
hearing  some  poor  mother  say,  to  her  babe,  "  My  child,  behold  the  asvSassin 
of  your  father ;"  without  hearing  some  gray  haired  sire  say,  "Murderer,  give 
me  back  my  gallant  boys ;  "  without  hearing  some  friendless  orphan  sigh, 
"Wretches,  give  me  back  my  father  whom  you  slaughtered,  my  mother 
whom  you  burned;"  without  hearing  some  poor  matron  shriek,  "Fiends, 
where  are  my  brave  sons  that  you  murdered  in  their  sleep  ;"  without  hearing 
some  poor,  pale  maiden  cry,  "  Where  is  my  lover,  whom,  savage-like,  you 
shot  down  in  his  chains;"  without  hearing  some  aged,  childless,  harmless 
couple  groan,  "  Oh,  monsters !  give  us  back  our  daughter  whom  you  rav- 
ished, our  homestead  that  you  pillaged  and  then  consigned  to  fire,  our  fields 
that  gave  us  bread,  which  you  destroyed ;"  without  hearing  from  every  lip, 
from  the  fair  haired,  lisping  child,  to  the  veteran  of  four  score,  the  frightful 
execration — "  Go,  men  who  have  forfeited  your  manhood ;  go,  wretches  who 
have  forfeited  your  humanity  ;  go  ye,  who,  though  wrapt  in  human  guise,  are 
yet  not  human;  go  ye,  who  though  in  the  uniform  of  soldiery,  arc  yetnot  soldiers; 
back  to  your  own  clime,  and  take  with  ye  the  knowledge  that  the  wives  ye 
have  widowed,  the  children  ye  have  orphaned,  the  parents  ye  have  made  child- 
less, the  hearthstones  ye  have  violated,  the  women  ye  have  ravished,  the  home- 
steads ye  have  fired,  the  fields  ye  have  reddened,  the  towns  ye  have  laid 
waste,  will  be  attesting  witnesses  of  your  infamy,  your  perfidy,  your  worth- 
lessness,  your  guile,  and  will  rise  up  in  judgment  against  you  and  yours,  now 
and  forever,  here  and  hereafter!" 

The  British  passed  down  to  their  ships  with  execrations  like  these ;  and  as 
they  ascended  their  vessels'  sides,  loud  groans  sainted  them  from  every  lip. 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  189 

The  groans  were  followed  a  moment  later  by  a  shrill,  prolonged  shout  of  en- 
thusiastic triumph. 

"  What  is  the  cause  of  this  loud  roar  !"  asked  a  British  officer,  leaning  over 
the  tarn-ail  of  his  vessel,  and  addressing  a  burly  woodsman,  who  had  just 
reached  the  pier,  and  was  surveying  the  evacuating  party  with  a  smile. 

"It  means,"  replied  the  woodsman,  "that  the  American  columns  air  en- 
terin'  the  city  jest  as  yew  varmint  air  in  the  act  of  slidin'I  The  stars  and 
stripes  air  now  takin'  the  place  of  the  British  lion,  and  the  people  air  so 
tickled  at  the  change  that  they  can't  hold  in !  P'raps,  kernel,"  he  added, 
with  a  quiet  leer,  "  yew'd  like  to  jine  'em  ?" 

The  officer  hastily  retired  from  the  vessel's  side,  without  deigning  a  reply. 
The  woodsman  hung  around  the  pier  till  the  British  ships  had  hauled  out  into 
the  stream,  thrown  out  their  sails,  and  turned  their  bows  England- ward. 

"  It's  all  right  now  !"  he  murmured,  "  I  hev  seed  sum  pleasin'  sights  in  my 
day,  but  this,"  and  he  smiled  at  the  retreating  fleet,  "  takes  the  shine  out  «t 
em  all!" 

The  woodsman  lingered  on  the  pier  till  the  last  sail  had  dwindled  into  a 
speck,  and  till  the  speck  became  lost  in  air,  and  then  turned  upon  his  heel, 
murmuring — 

"  Now  that  the  streaked  varmint  air  gone,  I  kin  breathe  agin  !  The  cusses 
wer  a  dead  weight  on  the  country,  which  now,  relieved  of  their  consumin* 
presence,  will  go  ahead  like  chain  lightnin'.  There's  now  nuthin  more  fer 
me  ter  du,  'cept  to  say.  Good  bye,  to  Marion  and  Neil.  That  done,  I'll  back 
to  the  lodge,*fix  up  my  traps,  and  then  re-open  accounts  with  the  yaller 
bellies!" 

With  these  words,  thr  «•  .'p  hunter  passed  slowly  up  to  the  leading  thor- 
oughfares, to  behold  the  American  columns  as  they  paraded  in  triumph  through 
the  city. 

The  continental  troops,  marching  six  abreast,  in  their  three  cornered  hats, 
blue  coats,  yellow  breeches  and  top  boots,  presented  a  showy  and  imposing 
appearance,  and  were  received  •with  hearty  acclamations. 

Behind  them,  last,  though  by  no  means  least,  as  was  evidenced  by  the  en- 
thusiastic shouts  which  greeted  them  at  almost  every  step,  came  the  hardy 
eons  of  the  borders  and  the  wilderness,  in  their  wild  and  picturesque  attire, 
and  bearing  most  indubitable  marks  of  the  terrible  struggle  through  which 
they  had  passed.  Here  might  be  seen  a  lean,  sinewy  and  gigantic  woods- 
man, in  deerskin  shirt  and  leggins,  and  carrying  his  rifle  with  a  hand  which 
some  one  of  his  numerous  battles  had  robbed  of  the  major  part  of  its  fingers. 
Near  him  a  sturdy  yeoman,  whose  scarred  brow  and  powder-burned  cheeks 
bore  witness  of  the  conflicts  in  which  their  owner  had  been  engaged.  In  the 
next  line,  might  be  seen  a  rough,  stalwart  ploughman,  whose  torn,  patched 
and  greasy  garments  would  have  provoked  a  smile,  were  it  not  restrained  by 
admiration  for  the  patience,  unequalled  endurance  and  lofty  heroism  written 
on  his  calm,  manly  brow.  Beside  him  walked  one  who  had  lost  an  arm,  his 
remaining  member  carrying,  with  true  border  pride,  the  trusty  rifle  which 
had  been  his  constant  companion  through  the  long  years  of  gloom,  suffering 
and  struggle  amid  which  he  had  passed,  brave  and  unfaltering  as  the  bravest. 
Next  him,  might  be  seen  a  ragged,  half-starved  stripling  of  eighteen,  with  a 
wooden  leg,  having  parted  with  the  original  in  some  fierce  fought  field,  where 
cannon  balls  and  hissing  bullets  swept  all  around  like  a  storm  of  hail  Be- 
hind him  a  tall,  lean,  cadaverous  planter,  who  had  lost  an  eye,  his  cheeks 
and  brows  distorted  by  many  a  frightful  scar,  and  looking  proud  and  enthu- 
siastic with  his  remaining  orb. 

These  were  the  men  of  the  borders  and  the  wilderness,  who  had  fought 
their  country's  bravest  and  most  trying  battles.  These  were  the  men  who, 
regardless  of  cold,  hunger,  privation  and  fatigue,  grappled  with  the  enemy  oa 
the  mountain  and  plain,  sprang  upon  him  from  the  swamp  and  ravine,  sur- 


190  THE    SWAMP    STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

prised  and  broke  up  his  camps,  and  drove  him  from  the  borders  to  the 
fields,  from  the  fields  to  the  city,  from  the  city  to  the  sea.  These  were  the 
men  who,  in  their  own  rude  way,  had  hampered,  checked,  annoyed  and 
routed  the  cruel,  imperious  and  self-sufficient  foe.  These  were  the  men  who, 
when  the  regular  continental  troops  had  withdrawn  from  the  province,  car- 
ried on  the  war  alone  with  the  enemy,  drove  him  from  point  to  point, 
encouraged  the  troops  to  return,  and  in  the  darkest  hours  of  the  struggle  re- 
stored by  their  gallant  deeds  the  hopes  of  the  people.  These  were  the  men 
whom  sternest  suffering  could  not  crush,  whom  fiercest  danger  could  not 
daunt,  whom  neither  hunger,  nakedness,  cold,  privation  nor  the  gloom  of 
ten  thousand  reverses  could  intimidate  or  appal  These  were  the  men  who, 
nobly  forgetful  of  their  own  trials,  remembered  only  the  afflictions  of  their 
country.  These  were  the  men  of  the  borders  and  the  wilderness.  These 
were  the  merry  men  of  Marion. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  parting  between  Marion  and  his  gallant  band  was  solemn,  tender  and 
affecting ;  and  not  less  so  the  separation  between  the  brave  partisan  and  his 
two  attached  friends,  the  intrepid  scalp  hunter  and  the  chivalrous  planter.  At 
length,  the  parting  grasp  was  given,  the  last  adieu  falterin^y  uttered,  and 
with  humid  eyes  and  saddened  hearts  they  sprang  upon  their  horses  and  re- 
turned to  their  several  homes. 

The  planter  rode  along  thoughtfully,  that  is  to  say,  slowly. 

:;  Ah!"  he  murmured,  as  he  reflected  upon  the  result  of  the  long  and  try- 
ing contest,  ;1  God  never  deserts  those  who  trust  in  Him — never  regards  with 
indifference  those  who  are  true  to  themselves.  He  lias  led  us  out  of 
bondage,  up  to  freedom ;  out  of  weakness,  up  to  strength ;  out  of  suffering, 
up  to  happiness;  out  of  darkness,  up  to  light  Glory,  glory  to  His  name!" 

He  passed,  in  a  flat  boat,  over  the  Santee,  and  took  the  high  road  to  the 
Black  River. 

The  sun  was  shining  pleasantly.  The  high  hills  bordering  the  Santee  wore, 
to  the  planter's  eye.  an  unusually  cheerful  aspect ;  the  shadowy  woods  look- 
ed far  less  sombre  than  ever  before ;  the  scattered  fields  presented  a  lively 
appearance ;  the  birds  sang,  from  trees  along  the  way  side,  with  sweeter 
melody  than  usual. 

'•Ah!"  murmured  Somers,  ;1  never  before  did  nature  wear  to  me  so  bridal 
like  a  dress ;  never  before  on  my  ear  fell  the  music  of  her  choristers  so 
genially.  The  era  of  suffering  is  over — that  of  happiness,  begun !" 

He  was  interrupted  in  his  meditations  by  the  whistling  of  a  bullet,  and  the 
falling  of  his  hat,  which  glided  suddenly  from  his  head  to  the  road,  as  if 
knocked  off"  by  an  invisible  hand.  A  moment  later,  there  was  a  loud,  sharp 
report,  and  the  planter  was  aware  that  an  attempt  had  been  made,  by  some 
ambushed  foe.  upon  his  life. 

He  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  and  beheld  a  human  figure  break- 
ing through  the  underbrush  of  a  wood  upon  the  roadside,  and  making  to- 
wards him  with  a  clubbed  rifle. 

One  glance  was  sufficient  to  enable  Somers  to  recognise  the  would-be 


It  was  his  relentless  enemy — Richard  Winter. 
The  brow  of  the  planter  darkened,  as  he  unsh< 
"Coward!"  he  exclained,  springing  from  his  s 
«asay  in  the  art  of  an  assassin.     It  shall  be  your  last!" 

"It  shall!"  thundered  Richar*  Winter,  rushing  towards  him  with  clubbed 


The  brow  of  the  planter  darkened,  as  he  unsheathed  his  rapie/. 
"Coward!"  he  exclained,  springing  from  his  saddle,  "this  is  your  second 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    AI2IIRV    MEN.  191 

v> ••'.•  i;>n,  "  because  you — the  cause — will,  in  a  few  moments,  have  ceased  to 
exist !" 

"You  think  that?     Come  on,  then!"  cried  the  planter. 

::  I  do  not  think  it  only — I  know  it !"  returned  the  tory,  falling  furiously 
upon  him. 

Somers  slipped  lightly  aside  to  avoid  the  intended  blow,  and  the  descend- 
ing weapon  fell  upon  the  earth. 

In  another  instant,  the  planter  sprang  forward  and  pierced  his  adversary 
in  the  side. 

As  the  rapier  was  withdrawn,  the  tory  felt  a  line  of  hot  liquid  coursing 
down  his  body  between  the  garments  and  the  skin. 

Without  a  moment's  pause,  he  dropped  his  heavy  rifle,  and  precipitated 
himself  upon  the  planter.  The  latter,  throwing  aside  his  reeking  blade, 
closed  in  with  him,  and  found  himself  compelled  to  call  up  all  his  strength  to 
force  from  off  his  throat  the  fingers  of  his  adversary,  who.  with  the  ferocity 
of  a  tiger,  was  straining  every  nerve  to  throttle  him. 

Throwing  up  his  left  hand,  he  caught  and  grasped  with  a  vice -like  firm- 
ness the  right  wrist  of  his  malignant  foe ;  then  bringing  around  his  right 
hand,  he  twined  his  fingers  in  the  tory's  long  dark  hair,  and  summoning  all 
the  rigid  force  of  his  hardy  muscles  to  his  aid,  he  braced  himself,  and  pulled 
on  the  encoiled  locks — retaining  at  the  same  time  a  strong  hold  of  the  im- 
prisoned wrist,  which  he  suddenly  forced  aside  as  he  strained  with  his  right 
upon  the  hair. 

Unable  tf> Desist  this  attack  upon  his  muscular  forces,  the  tory's  head  bent 
back,  his  fingers  relaxed  their  hold,  and  he  could  do  nothing  but  glare,  with 
eyes  glittering  with  passionate  hatred,  up  at  his  adversary,  who  continued  to 
pull  upon  his  strained  locks  till  his  bent  body,  losing  its  balance,  fell  heavily, 
drawing  the  planter  after  and  upon  him. 

As  he  fell,  the  tory  uttered  a  low,  agonising  groan,  and  then  became  in- 
sensible. 

Somers  sprang  to  his  feet,  in  astonishment.     ' 

"  He  must  have  fallen  on  something  besides  earth,"  he  exclaimed,  "  or  he 
would  not  have  moaned  like  that !" 

He  stooped,  and  taking  the  tory  by  the  collar,  moved  him  slightly  aside. 

The  mystery  was  explained. 

Richard  Winter  had  fallen  upon  a  sharp,  ragged  piece  of  rock,  of  a  rough, 
pyramidal  shape,  the  point  of  which,  striking  him  in  the  centre  of  the  back, 
had  penetrated  and  bruised  his  spine. 

"  Merciful  heaven  !"  muttered  the  planter.  "  What  indescribable  agony 
he  must  have  suffered  in  that  moment!" 

The  tory's  pale,  upturned  features  were  distorted  with  the  anguish  which 
had  wrung  him  to  the  soul  ere  he  yielded  to  its  intensity. 

Somers  shuddered,  as  he  gazed  upon  the  body,  which,  but  for  the  bleeding 
wound  in  its  side,  scarcely  evinced  a  single  sign  of  life. 

"  He  must  be  got  home  as  soon  as  possible,"  murmured  the  planter,  with 
a  sigh.  "  Alas !  what  a  sight  for  his  over-fond  father !" 

He  stayed  with  his  handkerchief  the  welling  of  the  wound,  and  calling  up 
his  horse,  bade  him  fall  upon  his  knees. 

Arrow  complied,  and  the  planter  succeeded,  after  some  difficulty,  in  pla- 
cing and  strapping  the  tory  in  the  saddle,  with  his  head  resting  forward  on 
the  animal's  neck.  Then  taking  the,  latter  by  the  bridle,  he  walked  him  slow- 
ly to  the  Black  River,  across  which  he  was  ferried  in  a  flat  boat,  and  shortly 
after  entered  Kingstree. 

On  entering  the  village,  he  passed  up  the  main  street,  and  halted  at  the 
house  of  young  Sprague,  who  soon  made  his  appearance  at  the  gate,  and  to 
whom  he  related  the  part;culars  of  the  occurrence. 


192  THE  SWAMP  STEED;  OR  THE  DAYS 

A  litter  was  shortly  prepared,  the  wounded  tory  placed  within  it,  and  thei 
borne  by  four  stout  negroes  to  his  home. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  news  ?"  asked  Sprague,  who  accompanied  the  plan- 
ter on  his  painful  errand  to  the  Winters. 

"What  news?" 

"  Mrs.  Brunton  and  Fred.  Crampton  were  married  this  morning !" 

"  Indeed !"  returned  Somers,  thoughtfully.  "  I  was  not  aware  Mr.  Cramp- 
ton  paid  court  in  that  quarter." 

"  Oh,  yes.  They  have  been  engaged  for  some  time — almost  from  the  day 
of  the  widow's,  return  from  her  last  visit  to  Charleston." 

"  I  rejoice  to  hear  it,"  said  the  planter,  after  a  moment's  reflection.  "  Mrs. 
Brunton  is  a  very  charming  lady,  Mr.  Crampton  a  very  worthy  gentleman, 
and  from  my  heart  I  wish  them  every  happiness !" 

A  few  minutes  more  brought  them  to  the  house  of  the  wounded  and  still 
unconscious  tory. 

Mr.  Winter  was  plunged  into  the  utmost  consternation  and  distress  on 
perceiving  the  condition  of  his  erring  but  idolized  son.  Without  waiting  to 
hear  the  particulars  of  the  unhappy  event,  he  overwhelmed  the  planter  with 
threats  and  violent  reproaches,  and  wound  up  by  ordering  him  from  the 
plantation. 

"  Mr.  Winter,"  returned  the  planter,  with  an  air  of  tranquil  grandeur, 
"you  are  doing  yourself  a  wrong  and  me  an  injustice,  by  condemning  me 
unheard.  Nevertheless,  I  pardon  you,  and  will  do  myself  the  honor  of  wait- 
ing upon  you  in  a  calmer  hour,  and  of  laying  before  you  the*  details  of  this 
melancholy  affair,  which,  sir,  you  cannot  regard  with  deeper  regret  than 
myself!" 

He  lifted  his  hat  respectfully,  aiid,  exchanging  a  mournful  glance  with  Amy, 
who  stood  over  her  brother  in  tears,  took  his  leave. 

On  reaching  his  own  plantation,  Somers  was  received  by  his  parent  and 
brothers  with  indescribable  joy  and  affection. 

"  Ah!  Neil,  my  beloved/'  cried  his  mother,  tenderly  embracing  him,  "  the 
war  over,  we  shall  never  part  again !" 

"  Never,  mother — dear  mother,  never !" 

"  But,  my  son,"  said  Mrs.  Somers,  detecting  with  a  mother's  delicate  in- 
stinct, a  slight  shade  upon  his  brow,  "  something  has  happened  ?" 

"  You  have  been  attacked  by  some  one,  brother  ?"  observed  Frederick, 
anxiously. 

"Your  collar  is  torn,  brother!"  added  George,  in  a  tone  of  solicitude. 

"My  son — my  good,  my  brave  boy!"  continued  Mrs.  Somers,  tenderly, 
•'  there  are  scratches  upon  your  neck  !  Frederick  is  right — George  has  di- 
vined truly — you  have  been  attacked?  Is  it  not  so,  Neil?" 

"  It  is  true,  mother — it  is  true,  my  brothers!"  returned  the  planter.  "Lis- 
ten, beloved  ones." 

And  he  gave  the  particulars  of  the  affair. 

"  My  son,"  said  Mrs.  Somers.  as  Neil  concluded  his  recital,  "  Mr.  Winter 
did  you  great  injustice  by  his  reproaches.  He  should  have  thanked  you  for 
not  leaving  his  wicked  boy  upon  the  road !" 

"  I  could  not  do  that,  mother !" 

"  No,  my  good,  my  brave  son,"  returned  his  parent,  throwing  her  arm* 
around  him  fondly,  "you  could  not.  You  are  the  soul  of  magnanimity  and 
honor !" 

At  this  moment,  a  servant  entered,  with  a  note. 

The  planter  blushed  as  he  glanced  at  the  superscription.  He  had  recog 
nked  the  handwriting.  He  opened  the  missive,  and  on  running  his  eye  ove«i 
its  contents,  his  countenance  brightened. 

"He  lives,  mother — he  will  not  die!"  he  exclaimed.  "  Thank  heaven!  h« 
will  have  time  to  repent!" 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  193 

"Tis  from  Miss  Winter?"  said  Mrs.  Somers,  tenderly. 
"  It  is,"  replied  the  planter,  respectfully  handing  her  the  note.     '  Read  it!" 
Mrs.  Somers  glanced  it  over,  and  then  perused  it  aloud.     It  was  couched 
as  follows : 

"  Dear  Neil, — I  hasten  to  relieve  your  heart  of  the  load  which  oppresses  it. 
The  physician  is  here,  and  he  assures  us  Richard,  who  is  now  conscious,  will 
yet  recover.  Remember  me  to  my  dear  Mrs.  Somers,  and  your  beloved 
brothers.  AMT." 

"  It  is  very  kind  and  considerate  in  Miss  Winter,  to  send  you  this  welcome 
intelligence,  brother !"  observed  Frederick. 

"She  is  worthy  of  Neil's  and  our  dear  mother's  friendship,"  continued 
George. 

"She  is  a  good  creature!"  said  Mrs.  Somers,  glancing  gratefully  at  the 
twins.  "  But  talking  of  letters,  my  dear,"  she  added,  turning  to  Neil,  "  there 
was  one  brought  here  yesterday  from  the  village.  It  was  marked  '  private,' 
of  which  there  was  not  the  least  necessity ;  for  I  am  sure,  my  dear,  I  should 
be  wanting  in  self-respect  to  open  a'letter  addressed  to  any  one  but  myself." 

"The  writer  of  it  evidently  did  not  know  you,  dear  mother!"  said  NeU, 
raising  her  hand  with  a  mingled  air  of  tenderness  and  respect  to  his  lips. 
''Where  is  it?" 

"  On  the  table  in  your  room,  my  dear.     I'll  run  up  and  bring  it  down." 

"No,  dear  mother.  I  will  go  and  get  it,  myself.  It  may,  perhaps, require 
an  immediate  reply." 

So  saying,  he  ascended  to  his  chamber — that  chamber  which  he  had  not 
been  in  before  for  years. 

He  paused  with  emotion,  as  he  crossed  the  threshold. 

Everything  was  as  he  had  left  it  when  he  first  buckled  on  his  rapier  to  bat- 
tle for  Carolina,  humanity  and  freedom.  There  stood  the  bed,  with  its  snowy 
curtains,  in  which  he  had  slept  from  childhood.  Between  the  two  windows, 
his  small  library,  and  under  it  his  writing  table.  There  was  his  old  easy 
chair,  with  its  homely,  yet  comfortable,  cushioned  seat  and  back.  In  one 
corner,  his  small  chest  of  drawers,  which  had  been  made  and  presented  to 
him  as  a  birth-day  present,  by  one  of  his  negroes,  long  years  before.  In 
another  corner  stood  the  old  clothes  press,  also  the  make  and  gift  of  one  of 
his  attached  slaves.  Over  the  broad  mantle  hung  his  fowling  piece,  belt, 
pouch,  powder  horn  and  shot  bag,  with,  which  he  used  to  roam  the  woods 
hills  and  meadows,  in  quest  of  game,  in  his  youth. 

Yes,  everything,  as  he  had  left  it ;  everything  to  call  up  pleasant  memories 
of  days  long  gone,  of  years  long  fled ;  everything  clean,  bright  and  spotless, 
evidencing  his  mother's  kindly  care,  watching  eye,  and  attentive  hand. 

The  planter  brushed  away  a  tear,  and  then,  glancing  at  the  table,  perceived 
the  letter,  or  rather  package,  for  it  was  a  large  one. 

He  took  it  up,  broke  the  seal  of  the  envelope,  and  found  a  note  lying  upon 
a  large  folded  document. 

The  superscription  on  the  note  was  penned  in  a  fine,  delicate,  womanly 
style.  His  face  flushed  as  he  glanced  at  it,  for  his  heart  guessed  the  name  of 
its  writer.  He  opened  the  missive  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  read  with 
humid  eyes,  the  following  words : 

"  NEIL,  my  friend,  to-day  I  am  free,  to-morrow  I  shall  be  another's.  But 
ere  I  relinquish  my  liberty,  I  desire  to  say  to  you — Neil,  I  have  loved  you 
for  years,  as  I  never  loved  before,  as  I  can  never  love  again.  I  hoped — so 
selfish,  my  friend,  is  the  thing  called  love — to  meet  with  a  return  of  my  pas- 
sion, even  though  I  was  aware  that  your  faith  was  pledged  to  another ;  but 
it  was  not  to  be,  and  I  bow  to  the  decree  of  my  destiny.  I  can  say  this  to 
you  now,  my  friend,  without  a  blush,  because  you  are  yet  free,  because  you 

25 


194  THE   SWAMP   STEED  ;    OR    THE    DAYS 

already  suspect  it,  and  because  I  know  that  the  knowledge  of  it  will  never  pass 
from  your  keeping.  To-morrow,  I  shall  be  another's,  and  then  I  shall  forget 
that  I  have  ever  regarded  you  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  a  generous  and 
noble-minded  friend.  I  say  this  to  vindicate  my  honor.  Henceforth,  I  shall 
look  upon  you  as  one  of  the  nearest  and  dearest  friends  of  myself  and  hus- 
-band.  Enclosed  please  find  a  deed  of  the  property  which  you  honored  me 
by  selling  to  me  some  years  ago.  Accept  it,  Neil,  as  a  gift  from  your  old 
school  fellow — accept  it  as  a  legacy  of  that  love  which  honor  and  duty  now 
bid  resolve  into  mere  esteem.  Accept  it,  Neil,  in  the  same  generous  spirit 
with  which,  on  discovering  my  love,  you  promised  me  your  friendship.  Ac- 
cept it,  as  a  gift  from  a  sister  to  a  brother,  whom  she  loves.  Accept  it  as  a 
.gift  from  her  whose  heart,  now  whole,  will  break,  if  you  refuse  it. 

Your  friend, 

LAURA  BRUNTON." 

The  planter  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hands,  thoughtfully,  for  some  minutes, 
after  perusing  this  letter.  At  length,  he  drew  out  his  table  drawer,  and 
taking  forth  the  necessary  implements,  penned  the  following  reply  : 

"  DEAR  FRIEND, — To  refuse  your  generous  offer  would  be  a  cruelty  which 
I  have  not  the  courage  to  inflict  I  accept  it  as  souvenir  of  one  whose 
great  soul  has  ever  been  dear  to  me — of  one  in  whose  pure  friendship  I  es- 
teem myself  blessed.  The  announcement  of  your  union  fills  me  with  pleas- 
ure ;  and  the  more  so,  as  the  object  of  your  choice  is  a  gentleman  whom  I 
.have  long  known  and  honored  for  his  merits  as  a  friend,  a  patriot  and  a  man. 
He  is  worthy  of  your  noble  heart ;  and  will,  I  am  confident,  spare  nothing  to 
render  the  fair  partner  of  his  name  and  love,  the  happiest  of  her  sex.  That 
your  days  may  be  long  and  your  path  one  of  flowers,  shall  ever  be  the  prayer, 
•dear  lady,  of  your  old  playfellow  and  friend, 

NEIL  SOMKBS." 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

WEEKS  glided  away,  and  Richard  Winter  still  retained  his  chamber.  Gloom 
and  quiet  reigned  throughout  the  household:  for  it  was  known  and  felt  that, 
although  the  sword  wound  in  the  tory's  side  had  healed,  yet  the  internal  in- 
jury produced  by  the  hurt  in  his  spine  had  placed  him  beyond  the  surgeon's 
reach. 

Day  after  day  rolled  on,  and,  instead  of  mending,  the  invalid  grew  visibly 
•worse.  His  bold  and  manly  frame  wasted  slowly  but  unerringly  till  it  was 
a  mere  shadow.  His  cheeks  became  hollow,  his  lips  boodless,  his  neck  lean, 
and  feminine ;  while  his  facial  bones  shone  through  his  thin  and  livid  skin, 
with  painful  prominence.  His  eye  alone  was  unsubdued.  Through  its  bold 
clear  pupil  gleamed,  bright  as  ever,  the  fires  of  his  proud,  untamed  spirit. 

He  had  not  exchanged  a  word,  except  with  the  nurse  or  surgeon,  since 
the  hour  of  his  return  to  consciousness.  It  was  in  vain  that  his  father  ad- 
dressed him — in  vain  that  Amy  attempted  to  draw  him  into  conversation. 
If  he  noticed  them  at  all,  it  was  to  frowningly  point  them  to  the  door — nomore. 

He  appeared  wrapt  in  some  long  spell  of  musing.  Surrounded  and  propped 
up  by  innumerable  pillows,  he  would  sit  for  hours,  with  his  clasped  hands 
half  sustaining  his  slightly  bowed  chin,  and  looking  thoughtfully  across  the 
room  at  a  portrait  of  his  mother  hanging  from  the  wall 

Any  interruption  of  these  fits  was  sure  to  bring  down  upon  the  unlucky 
offender  a  flash  of  angry  lightning  from  his  bold  and  somewhat  brilliant  eyes, 
•which  had  a  world  of  meaning  in  them,  terrifying  e  ven  to  the  surgeon. 

At  length,  Amy,  perceiving  that  her  presence  was  more  of  an  annoyance 


1%  •  THE    SWAMP    STKKD  J    OH    Till:    m\ 

"  iTo/  .he  returned,  "  it  will  not  be  ao.     My  heart  tells  me  I  shall  speedily 
be  on  my  way  to  my  long  home.     Ere  sunset  I   shall  have  ceased  to  eatiat 
I  feel  it!"     He  paused,  to  recover  his  thoughts  and  strength,  and  tb« 
Burned    -"  Hut  to  tli.'  matter  before  us.     I  have  called  y<> 
cans.    I  know  that  I  am  a  dying  man,  and  partly  from  a  sincere  desire  to 
make  some  atonement  for  the  hatred   with  which   I   have  pursued  you  and 
yours.     It  is  now  about  eight  years,  sir,   since  my  motto 
pcarod  to  love  me,  called  me  to  her  bedside.     She  was  then,  as  I  am  now,  on 
the  eve  of  her  departure  (Ur  another  world.     She,  too,   had  then,  as  I  have 
now,  cleared  the  ,'h.Muber  of  Mr.  Winter  and  Amy,  that  none  save  her  invi- 
ted auditor  should  hear  what  she  had  to  say." 

•  II,   >ays  of  Mr.  Winter  and  Amy  1—  he  does  not  say  of  his  father  andga- 
terl"  muttered  the  planter  to  himself,  in  surprise. 

"  What  my  mother  said  to  me  then,"   continued   Richard,  faintly,  "I  now 
repeat  to  you,  and  in  her  very  words.     Listen,  Mr.  Somers — you  will  (hid 
in  it  the  key  to  my  bitterness  and  hatred." 
"I  listen,  Mr.  Winter,"  said  the  planter. 

"  '  M  v  son,  in  my  youth  I  was  vain  and  giddy,  and  in  an  evil 

hour  forgot  what  was  due  to  honor  and  my  husband,  by  yielding  to  the  em- 
braces of  a  stranger.  I  have  no  excuse  to  ofl<v  for  my  shame.  Guilt  raw 
have  none.  Enough  that  1  fell  through  the,  persuasion  of  one  skilled  in  the 
arts  of  n  pr<  >f<  -or.  Yon.  Richard,  are  the  issue  of  that  guilty  pas- 

sion, and  your  lather  is  not   my  husband,   Mr.  Winter,  but  Lionel  Bomers, 
who,  year- ago.   abandoned  his  wife,  taking  with  him  las  two  twin  boys, 
with  whom  he  tied  to  England  !'  " 
The  planter  started  and  turned  pale. 

"  '  You  will  find,'  .'ontinued  my   mother,  'in  a  p.-.  my  pillow, 

the  particulars  of  my  sham.-.      I  "leave  it  to  yourjudgme.nt.  my  son,  wi.. 

aled  to  your  father.     T  tell  it  to  you  that  you  may 

no  Ion-  .iml  cruelty  towards  you.     From  your  birth 

till  now,  yo'n  rer  been  a  living  witness  of  my  guilt     I  could  not 

look  UJKJU  you  without  thinking  of  my  shame.     Pardon  me.     Oh!  m\ 
pardon  your  erring  mother.     She  implores  it  of  you  on  her  dying  bed!'  " 
Richard  paused  a  moment,  to  recover  himself,  and  then  contn 
"  Though  shocked  at  this  recital,  I   ne<  ive  her   the  pardon  si 

desired,  and  then,  at  her  re-|uest,  called  in  Mr.  Winter  and   Amy,  who  were- 
weeping,  as   they   are   now.    m   an  adjoining    room.     A   tew  minutes,   and 
she  died— a*/'  '""'  si'ldi-u,  with  an  effort,  "in  a  few  minutes  I  shall  die!     But 
let  me  conclude,  for  I  li-.-l  I  -hull  hold  out  but  a  little   while.     As  the  earth 
was  thrown  upon  my  guilty   parent's  corpse,  I   swore  undying  hosti 
Lionel  Somers  and  all  of  his  issue  for  the  dishonor  he  had  heaped   upon  my 
head.      I  had  a  friend  in  London,  and  him  I  wrote  to  privately   look  up  Lio- 
nel Some:-  and  inform  me  of  his  abode.      It  was  my   intention  t 
England  and  l>"gin  on  him  my  work  of  vengeanee.      A  reply  came  back  that 
he  had  died  a  year  or  two  previously,  but  that  he  had  !••;'•  'wins, 

whom  he  had  educated  tor  th-  army,  and  who  shortly  expected  to  go  to 
America,  to  push  their  fortunes  in  'the  contest  which  was  anticipated  be- 
tween the  home  government  and  the  colonies.  My  next  letter  brought  me 
inU'Higenee  that  the  twin  brothers  were  about  to  embark  for  Charleston, 
where  I  might  look  for  th-m  within  a  few  months.  On  the  i 
information,  1  determined  to  meet  them,  ami  lead  them  on,  step  by  ?l 
to  intamy  and  then  death.  Pending  their  arrival,  I  commenced  a  systematic 
attack  upon  th-  honor  and  destruction  of  their  and  your  sister,  with  what 
success,  Mr.  Somers,  you  are  unfortunately  too  well  aware.  The  poor,  weak 
hearted  girl  was  laid  in  her  grave  on  the  morning  of  the  arrival  of  her  twin 
brothers'at  Charleston.  That  was  my  first  step  in  veu|eance." 


195 


«-« 


rayas^ass 

"  Yon^Ll7  aod  '"  Lshricked  ^  old  DIM,  springing  from  his  chmii 

^^KWaaiW!  ;.-e-5,v;,'Sr 


iD  to«»-th*1  »»««.  divining  too  weO  what 


tentio  8ir'"  Said      ch*^  f^%-  "  «d  now  Jet  M  have  your  at- 

^  Say  on,  Mr.  Winter." 


OF    MARION    AND    HIS    MERRY    MEN.  197 

He  paused  again  to  recover  his  strength,  and  then  resumed,  while  his  pale, 
ainiddering  auditor  trembled  in  his  chair  as  if  smitten  with  an  ague. 

"On  learning  the  arrival  of  the  twin  brothers  at  Charleston,  I  proceeded 
fjbither  at  once  to  meet  them.  I  succeeded  in  obtaining  an  introduction,  and 
followed  il  up  by  a  systematic  attack  upon  their  honor.  I  inveigled  them 
to  the  gambling  table,  where,  however,  I  failed  to  persuade  them  into  deep 
play.  I  beguiled  them  into  houses  of  bad  repute,  and  into  dissipations  of 
«7ery  nature  for  the  purpose  of  brutalizing  their  naturally  refined  minds,  de- 
stroying their  constitutions  and  blasting  their  reputations.  In  this  fiendish 
coarse  I  was  interrupted  by  the  sudden  breaking  out  of  the  revolution,  and 
an  order  from  the  British  governor  to  bear  a  despatch  concerning  the  Battle 
of  Lexington  to  the  sheriff  of  Kingstree.  This  separated  me  from  the  twins, 
and  preserved  them  from  my  malevolence.  Their  appearance  in  the  village  a 
day  or  two  after,  gave  me  new  hope  that  I  might  yet  succeed  in  destroying 
them.  Of  their  capture  by  yourself,  and  their  ultimate  disappearance,  I  need 
toy  nothing  other  than  that  it  increased  with  tenfold  bitterness  the  hatred  I 
lad  previously  entertained  against  you  as  one  of  the  stock  of  Lionel  Somers. 

"  To  be  brief.  From  that  hour,  seeing  their  destiny  had  rescued  the  twins 
from  my  hands,  I  directed  all  my  hostility  to  you  as  the  only  one  of  Lionel 
Somers'  issue  within  my  reach.  I  knew  that  you  loved  my  sister,  and  I  de- 
termined* to  wound  yoni  first  through  your  love,  and  then  slay  you  in  cold 
Mood.  Amy's  unfaltering  affection  and  the  lofty  sense  of  honor  of  Frederick 
Crampton,  the  man  I  had  designed  and  whom  I  strove  to  force  upon  her, 
preserved  you  from  the  first ;  y«ur  own  sagacity  and  courage  saved  you  from 
tiae  second.  I  need  not  repeat  here  the  details  of  my  designs  upon  your  hap- 
piness and  life.  You  are  already  familiar  with  them.  Enough  that  I  now, 
ia  this  my  dying  hour,  pronounce  them  base,  dishonorable  and  unmanly — 
that  I  rejoice  in  my  inmost  soul  at  their  failure,  and  that  I  repent  of  them 
•wish  a  fervency  as  genuine  as  my  former  hatred  was  solemn.  I  say  it  as  a 
4ying  man,  who  wOl  shortly  stand  in  the  presence  of  his  God !" 

"I  believe  you,  sir,"  said  the  planter,  t"and  here  extend  you  my  hand  in 
ftokec  of  my  full  forgiveness !" 

"Call  them  in,  Mr.  Somers,"  said  Richard,  impassively.  "I  cannot  take 
your  hand  till  I  have  in  some  measure  made  restitution  for  the  agonies 
I  have  caused  you  and  Amy !  Be  quick !  My  strength  is  giving  out.  My 
body  is  already  gone — it  is  MY  WILL  alone  which  now  sustains  me ! 

"Father,"  he  continued,  as  Mr.  Winter  and  Amy  re-entered  the  room,  "it 
SB  my  dying  wish  that  you  extend  your  hand  to  Mr.  Somers,  in  pledge  of 
wnoerest  amity.  He  is  a  brave  and  noble  gentleman,  and  worthy  of  your 
jnost  exalted  regards — all  that  I  have  ever  before  said  to  the  contrary,  notr 
•withstanding.  Nay,"  he  added,  seeing  Mr.  Winter's  hesitation  and  conra- 
aioo,  "  do  not  pause,  do  not  reflect.  I  WISH  it !" 

This  was  said  in  a  tone  which  the  weak  old  man  was  accustomed  to  obey ; 
and  without  a  word,  without  delaying  an  instant,  he  gave  his  hand  to  the 
planter. 

"  In  the  hand  you  hold,  my  father,  put  now  that  of  my  sister!"  continued 
Richard,  with  the  same  commanding  air. 

Mr.  Winter,  in  perplexity  and  distress,  complied,  and  the  planter  and  hia 
beloved,  both  of  whom  were  pale,  tremulous  and  tearful,  found  themselves 
aft  length  made  happy  by  him  who  had  spent  the  beat  years  of  his  life  in 
overwhelming  them  with  misery. 

"Bless  them  now,  my  father !"  added  Richard,  in  a  faint  and  solemn 
•voice  it  was  impossible  to  resist 

Mr.  Whiter  raised  his  hands  over  the  heads  of  the  lovers,  but  was  too 
'    agitated  to  speak, 
jr  father,"  said  Richard,  reproachfully,  "  I  hav,e  not  heard  you  bless 


198  THE   SWAMP   STEE»,   kC. 

"Bless  you,  my  children!"  gasped  the  agitated  old  man. 

"Father,"  said  Richard,  in  a  tone  faint  yet  firm,  "I  have  caused  you  many 
a  tear,  many  a  heart-ache,  many  a  suffering  hour.  Pardon  me!" 

"Oh!  Richard — my  son — my  son!"  sobbed  the  doting  parent,  falling  upon 
his  knees  beside  the  bed,  and  pressing  to  his  lips,  with  agonizing  affection, 
the  frail,  wan  hand  of  the  idol  of  his  heart. 

"You  have  not  pardoned  me,  my  father!"  persisted  Richard,  gently. 

"  I  forgive  you,  Richard — Oh !  my  brave,  brave  boy,  bless  you — bless 
you  I" 

"  Amy,"  continued  Richard,  "  I  have  caused  you  years  of  tears,  of  suffer- 
ing, of  woe.  Pardon,  pardon !" 

"Richard,  I  forgive,  forgive  you  all!"  cried  the  poor,  trembling  girl,  falling 
on  her  knees  beside  her  father,  and  sharing  with  him  the  pale,  attenuated  hand 
which  was  already  growing  cold. 

"Mr.  Somers,  added  Richard,  in  the  same  faint  yet  firm  voice,  "I  have 
wronged  you,  injured  you,  and  meanly  falsified  you,  times  without  number. 
But  I  repent  it  all.  Forgive — forgive  !" 

"I  do,  Richard — I  do,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart!"  said  the  planter,  ad- 
vancing and  taking  his  remaining  hand. 

"  Father,"  resumed  Richard,  faintly,  "  rise  and  let  me  feel  that  -you  are 
here.  My  eyes  are  growing  dim.  Amy,  stand  up  and  give  one  hand  to 
Somers,  who  holds  my  left,  the  other  to  father,  who  has  my  right.  Ah !  I 
can  control  my  will  no  longer — it  is  leaving  me !  Loose  not  your  hold — I 
would  feel  you  to  the  last.  Bless  me — bless  me  all — for  I  am  going !  Bless 
me !  Say  you  forgive,  as  you  hope  to  be  forgiven !" 

His  voice,  reduced  to  a  whisper,  ceased. 

"I  pardon — I  bless  you,  Oh!  Richard,  my  son!"  sobbed  the  doating 
father. 

"I  pardon — I  bless  you,  Oh!  Richard!"  cried  the  weeping  sister. 

"  I  pardon — I  bless  you,  Oh !  Richard,  my  brother  /"  exclaimed  the  gene- 
rous planter.  And  a  slight  pressure  of  the  hand  he  held  in  his,  told  him 
he  was  understood  and  appreciated  by  the  dying  man. 

"Bless  ydu— bless  you  all!"  he  murmured,  in  a  tone  .Thich  was  not  a 
whisper  but  a  sigh. 

And  as  they  heard  these  words,  his  auditors  knew  th*  V>  tpirit  which 
had  uttered  them  was  already  far  away. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


I  Illllllllll  Mill  Hill  Hill  Hill  IIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHI 

A     000  026  344     2 


